Welcome, welcome, one and all to the Bored Coast.

This land of weary sailors, sleepy fishfolk, and long-retired heroes has enjoyed many a decade of dreary peace.

However, the insulated nature of this tranquil region is slowly becoming rife with a coming

calamitic, a calamitic storm or surge of adventurers. For a bizarre, taw, an unknown origin, slowly spreads from the north, creeping its way towards the south.

Slowly, it claims all the land it encounters, and is causing somewhat of a mild panic amongst the otherwise sedated population.

Yet, for many that live on the islands of the Bored Coast, the encroaching tar is still a far-away myth.

These islands are a beacon of hope for many, as all souls lost at sea in the Bored Coast

turn into beautiful pearls,

and these pearls have served as a source of magic

that allows these islanders an immeasurable amount of comfort,

while being away far, far away from the threat of the tar.

Here we join a trio of adventurers as they return to their old stomping grounds, a small island known as tired cove.

Yes.

Three separate automated taxis sloop off of their...

Slope their passengers off of their hole, and one by one on this diluted and calm morning,

before them stands a long, dreary looking island that they once called home, no longer.

The first of these travelers to arrive on this massive yet abandoned pier

is someone I would like to have, well, describe themselves.

Arkov, if you could describe your character.

The character disembarking is sort of a young man.

Most notable thing about him is, aside from the patchwork of plate he's wearing, and

sort of a long sleeveless blue coat for a pair of suspenders, he has a cloak which

...