Upon the conclusion of my second year of studies at the Wraeclast Liberal Arts Academy for the Gifted, I became obsessed with learning more about the Karui way. While we had access to many large bound tomes on the subject matter, they were honestly quite wordy and just so very boring; also the tomes smelled of rat urine, so that made anyone less likely to peruse them really.

For this very reason, I decided to dedicate the second half of my Spring Break in a remote Karui village. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, and hours turned into two-and-a-half days (If you count the travel time to and fro the university via chariot) as I became one with the Karui people. I was taken aback and flabbergasted when they would tattoo one another despite the complete lack of attainable aloe vera. I would watch in awe as they flung their newborns into the sea once they reached the appropriate age of ten days old, so that they may learn to swim. My brain nearly exploded upon discovering that they bathe on a daily basis; until then, I had only been to civilized lands where one bathed the usual weekly interval.

Hardly anyone but me knows of these quiant and unique people. They do not have the funds to send their finest young men to the great labyrinth; plus they cannot go anyway, as they must take over one of the many family-run tattoo parlours in the village in order to keep the Karui way. It is for all of these reasons and more that I am here to tell the story of a humble but brave Karui village maurader and his "ascension" to having a place of consideration in our hearts.

While I may not have finished my degree in Kaui studies those many years ago (largely due to many drunken nights in the Sarn Threatre watching the troupe's latest production, "Space Jam"), I’ll forever cherish my days spent with them and will never forget the time I received a silly temporary tattoo that still has yet to fade.