[insert picture here]
This is the mysterious valley of life. It is the lowest in elevation of all Urin and the calmest portion as well. It here that most Nequus find themselves during the day;, grazing on the plentiful grass that grows around. The ground is soft and very easy on tender feet, but one must be wary that they do not eat to much of the rich grass. Nequus have adapted to pace themselves on this delicacy. For if they do not they will die from colic. It is their punishment from the gods for their greed. The grass will always be there for them to return too, they must not eat it all or they shall perish.
For this reason in the early years it was avoided. Thought after as a bringer of death and pain, little survived its wrath. Time would make brave and wise Nequus who would test these superstitions and find the flaw in legend, bringing to life the fact that was. It was a gift, to be used wisely, not taken for granted, and not wished away. It was a fragile landscape itself. One must tread lightly on its surface or it will fade away into nothingness.
This valley is forever green. A meadow stuck in time, its ground kept lush by the every seeping water from Yisi Rishunesafarina. Rain and clouds are constant companions of the lush landscape. The clap of thunder happily diplays itself as it dumps torrents of water to lie amongst the earth.
Here there is little difference between summer, winter, spring, or fall. The weather is always mild, only slightly cooler at night and during the fall of rain. Clouds constantly dot the sky, there is hardly ever a clear day here. Often the clouds dissipate, though sometimes they drift their way over to Shrilal to dump their bounty there.
Vast herds of Nequus can be seen scattered about the landscape, all grazing on their constant move in life. It is here that families come to raise their young. Letting their offspring dance amongst the thick reeds and soft strands of grass in safety and harmony. The Nequus are to old to stay with the trees, but not yet old enough to venture outwards. Here they can play and learn, being taught by their more mellow parents in the ways of life. Perhaps splashing in a pond here, or venturing closer to Yisi Rishunesafarina to leave the watchful eye of their elders.
The old come here, too, spending long hours dozing away in the calm summer. It is a place for relaxation and a place for play. Here the not to old come to rest their last days in peace and comfort, telling stories of their ancient journeys to the young who come to learn of them. It is known as the maker of legends, the ultimate weaver of tales in Urin. The grass tweaks things out of proportion to make them much different than they actually are. It is not a place for the hard at heart, to much love dwells within the greenery.
This is the mysterious valley of life. It is the lowest in elevation of all Urin and the calmest portion as well. It here that most Nequus find themselves during the day;, grazing on the plentiful grass that grows around. The ground is soft and very easy on tender feet, but one must be wary that they do not eat to much of the rich grass. Nequus have adapted to pace themselves on this delicacy. For if they do not they will die from colic. It is their punishment from the gods for their greed. The grass will always be there for them to return too, they must not eat it all or they shall perish.
For this reason in the early years it was avoided. Thought after as a bringer of death and pain, little survived its wrath. Time would make brave and wise Nequus who would test these superstitions and find the flaw in legend, bringing to life the fact that was. It was a gift, to be used wisely, not taken for granted, and not wished away. It was a fragile landscape itself. One must tread lightly on its surface or it will fade away into nothingness.
This valley is forever green. A meadow stuck in time, its ground kept lush by the every seeping water from Yisi Rishunesafarina. Rain and clouds are constant companions of the lush landscape. The clap of thunder happily diplays itself as it dumps torrents of water to lie amongst the earth.
Here there is little difference between summer, winter, spring, or fall. The weather is always mild, only slightly cooler at night and during the fall of rain. Clouds constantly dot the sky, there is hardly ever a clear day here. Often the clouds dissipate, though sometimes they drift their way over to Shrilal to dump their bounty there.
Vast herds of Nequus can be seen scattered about the landscape, all grazing on their constant move in life. It is here that families come to raise their young. Letting their offspring dance amongst the thick reeds and soft strands of grass in safety and harmony. The Nequus are to old to stay with the trees, but not yet old enough to venture outwards. Here they can play and learn, being taught by their more mellow parents in the ways of life. Perhaps splashing in a pond here, or venturing closer to Yisi Rishunesafarina to leave the watchful eye of their elders.
The old come here, too, spending long hours dozing away in the calm summer. It is a place for relaxation and a place for play. Here the not to old come to rest their last days in peace and comfort, telling stories of their ancient journeys to the young who come to learn of them. It is known as the maker of legends, the ultimate weaver of tales in Urin. The grass tweaks things out of proportion to make them much different than they actually are. It is not a place for the hard at heart, to much love dwells within the greenery.
