Isle of the Veils

CHAPTER ONE <> DREAM

CREATE ACCOUNT
SIGN IN

CREATE ACCOUNT
SIGN IN

username
password
email
date of birth year

PROCESSING...

LOGGING IN...

Welcome to Isle of the Veils.
Please edit your character and character accessories.

George looks at himself, suspended in a white void with nothing but a plain beige jumpsuit on, fraying at the edges. He lifts his hand and his reflection waves back. Looking away from his reflection, George taps on a small icon titled "VEILS."

Rows upon rows of masks, veils, glasses and even hijabs and such slide into view. A short explanation pops up to the side and George stops his scrolling to read through it.

"Veils are simply an accessory. You can either choose to wear one or not. It's up to you."

"Huh," George says, and picks a plain pair of white glasses, "okay."

They appear on his reflections face. George adjusts them as he clicks the "next" option. The next option is just changing things like hair and piercings, there's even tattoos, but the game does not let George mess with his height, skin color, or body and face structure.

George moves on quickly, not particularly interested in messing with his appearance. A message pops up before his eyes.

NOW ENTERING THE WORLD OF EOH...

George squeaks as he's suddenly transported to a forested area of land. He stumbles backwards and lands on his rear, sending a jolt of distinct uncomfort up his spine. "Oh, is that how the pain thing works?" George says to himself. He gets up and dusts himself off, looking around a little.

Peeking around a bend of trees, George spots a couple of players who look to be beginners like him milling around. A large woman with tan skin and fiery blonde hair stands a ways off from the players, her arms crossed over her chest. A nametag above the lady addresses her as "Cyra."

From just one glance, George can tell that Cyra is an NPC. Wandering over to her, George initiates conversation. "Erm, hi?"

Cyra glances down at George and her eyes are as brown as burnt honey. "Hello," she smiles warmly, shifting her stance and letting her arms hang by her sides, "new to Eoh, huh?"

George nods and tries to keep his eyes on her face instead of her (admittedly) impressively muscled arms. Cyra nods like she understands his nervousness.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it in no time." Cyra looks so confident that George can't help but believe her, even if a player screams when they stumble upon a nest of angry... something's that remind George of hornets.

"To get you started, I'll be giving you some basic supplies," Cyra carries on, turning to rummage through a cart full of swords, bows and what looks like armor. She pulls out a thin sword, a leather torso piece that covers his chest and stomach along with his back but leaves his sides exposed, and hard leather boots. "Put these on." Cyra instructs, shoving the supplies into his arms.

George shrugs on the leather chestplate, buckling the straps quickly. He pulls on and buckles his boots in record time. Looking up at Cyra, George clutches his sword to his chest. She drops a bow and a sling of arrows on him as well, and all the arrows nearly topple out of their carrier.

Throwing his quiver's strap over his shoulder and his bow following shortly after, George looks back at Cyra, arms ready to reach out and take something else just in case. He wouldn't let her surprise him again, George thinks with a huff.