The planet of Cayone is dry. Very dry. So dry, in fact, that gold is scoffed at and water is praised as the most valuable resource. This desert planet uses water as a bargaining chip, a form of currency, and a way of life. Almost all life is crowded around the springs and underground water sources (little as they are). Almost everyone on the planet is willing to betray, spy on, or kill their fellow man for water. Everyone is a back-stabber, but there are two definite sides. Those that follow the priests of life, who worship water and think of it as a god, are the Livenens. They see anyone but themselves as heathens, and so, worthy to die. These priests, who are very warlike indeed, pride themselves on bullying those under their thumb that they don't kill. They take taxes of food, since they believe that dealing water as money is unholy. The other side of the fight are those that have risen up against the scarlet-robed priests and just believe in living. The weapons stopped coming around the time that flint-locked weapons were perfected, if that gives you a good idea (Civil war era our time). Choose your side and species. The main ethnic groups are goblins, dwarves, elves and humans. If you choose to be a priest, you must be human. Elves live to about 300, dwarves 150, goblins 100, humans 90 ( all these ages are possible if you are lucky). The terrain is mostly deserts, canyons, flatlands, and mesas.
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"Bleh! I've heard of water going sour, but never really experienced it." I looked over at the goblin sitting next to me with distaste. The mere sight of him was probably what spoiled the water. The creature had tufts of hair poking everywhere. His garb, much like himself, stank horribly. Thrust in his belt was a long dagger. It probably wasn't a good idea to cross him, not that I couldn't deal with him. My name is Citarael. I'm an elven mercenary or bounty hunter. I carry an elegant yet finely honed rapier-saber with a long blade. I also carry a half-sized crossbow. Just because it is smaller than a regular crossbow doesn't make it less dangerous. I have limited magic ability, unlike my elven brothers. I have pointed ears and long black hair. I wear a cowhide tunic over my hardened leather armor. Over my tunic I wear an ankle-length duster, much like a trench coat. I almost always have my hood up, keeping myself in an ever-present shadow.
I've experianced it. It's not that hard, really. And it's quite disgusting. Or at least I think so. It's been a while.
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