In the middle of Cynosphere was a strange looking individual. He was currently sleeping, with his feet stretched outside of a cardboard box that was covered in mold. Underneath the gutter of a local establishment, was where he kept his lodgings. His face was matted with a large piece of rotting newspaper, which muffled out his snores. The run-off from the gutters, splashed onto his face, destroying his makeshift sleep mask. "GLALLBLAAG!" The mysterious man quickly got up, as he brushed off some growing fungi from his tattered robes.
"Ackblah!" He yelled out as he reached over and grabbed a large gnarled piece of metal, which he took as his staff. He stood up, as he waggled his bare-feet which were covered in soot, dirt and ash, and had many fungal spores growing beneath his murky yellow toe-nails. He brushed through his coarse hair, thick with sludge and slime, distorting the natural color into a greenish grey. He walked out to the street as he made his declaration, "HEROES, I KNOW YOU ARE OUT THERE YOU CREATINS! COME HERE AND ACCEPT A MINDLESS FETCH QUEST FROM MAYONNAISE THE GRAND WIZARD! I SHALL OFFER YOU BAUBLES OF GREAT IMPORTANCE FOR IT."
The Wizard stared at Jack and the group, which at least had Alpha and the Runner, he was with, "YES, I SHALL OFFER BAUBLES OF GREAT IMPORTANCE FOR HEEDING THIS TASK!"
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Across the street a man with a shaved head dressed in a three-piece black-suit moved up his sunglasses as he stared at the man incredulousily. The Company told me that this place would be filled with weirdos, but I'd never expect... He quickly reached into his breast-pocket as he pulled out a worn brown envelope, which had a red wax seal firmly in place. He peered around, as he searched for his fellow agent to deliver the message to.
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And of course, not to mention the tavern that was across the street. A man with a bright neon green mohawk, wearing a sleeveless leather jacket stumbled out, before puking into a trash-can. Inside the bar-tender was serving a drink.
She looked fairly young, real young, in fact she had to stand on a stool to even sling the drink. Her bright red hair were in pig-tails. She stared idly at customer as she slid a shot-glass of rum to a rather ornery looking fellow, with a series of warts on his face dressed in a cheap-suit. "...Your drink."