Once Artimus had finally arrived at his home in Moga, the dangers of sobriety could not grasp him. Artimus, inside his hut and ready to get fucked up, needed relief from such a stressful day out in the field. Artimus searched his home for a bottle, and only came upon a single one. Breaking the bottle top upon his small table, he quickly brought the bottle back up for a good swig. The punch was weaker than than usual, but could still snap Tom Staniford in two. It only took him a mere 20 seconds to finish this bottle, his second best at a bottle of this size. Though it was minor, the buzz grew within him. Artimus tossed the bottle into the opening in his room, into the sea. The bottle sank deeper into the sea, and Artimus, for the first time, began to think.

What you may not have known, was that Artimus was a good swimmer, and could hold his breath for around 5 minutes underwater while doing any action and under any pressure. Throughout his youth, he spent time in the water, and built a reputation within his home. His family, blank faces that he can no longer recognize, cherished him and told him how talented he was, "a one of a kind." Throughout his schooling, Artimus pondered his ability, asking himself as to how he can perform such a feat and still have enough energy in his blood to keep up with everything he did underwater. His school taught him that air had an effect on everything he does, the more he expended energy, the more air he needs. Artimus had a regular cardio and lung capacity for his age, so this peculiarity piqued his interest. As a partial specialist in the field of anatomy and physiology, Artimus knew he had a gift, and planned to be a marine biologist who went out into waters without equipment to study the wildlife. He was such an insightful creature, testing his hypotheses and sharing his results. What could have caused such degradation and retardation? How did he fall from grace faster than the time it takes for women to get uncomfortable around him?

Artimus, before arriving to Moga was aware of another place where he could go to hunt, and it could have multiple hunters. A foursome is just what this he wanted. After daydreaming of the bottle drowned in the blue of the sea, Artimus set out of his hut and into Moga Village yet again.

The villagers were still skeptical and hopeful that Artimus would eventually do something to aid them with their troubles. "Their troubles could wait, I have my own problems to deal with" the despicable asshole thought to himself. This fucker then proceeded to the ship that had a cat on a barrel beside its walkway. This pussy was far from ordinary, it had a head of brown hair with a short ponytail over it's blonde fur, was clothed in garments that exposed its furry chest, had a fish-bone necklace, and carried a fine sword and sheath on its back. This was no pussy, it was Neko (also Means "Cat"). Neko initiated the conversation when the mistake of a hunter was in front of him "Salutations, good hunter! I'm Neko (Means "Cat"), I could take care of your farming needs and purrvide the purrfect sail ride to the tavern!" This made Artimus grin, he was right about this mythical place where he could hunt and get hammered with some company. "Alright, bro, take me to the tavern where I can get some good shit to drink!" Neko nodded excitedly with a twinkle in his eye, and gestured for Artimus to get into the ship. Artimus climbed onto the ship, and sat on a barrel on the side just behind the railing. The ship had set sail away from Moga, and Artimus stared into the blue of the ocean. As the selfish asshole departed, thoughts could not escape him.

Vague figures and images appeared in Artimus' mind, people he could recognize by clothes and stature, but not by face or name. A fragment of his former life may have been coming to him, whether he realized it or not. He tried his best to put a face upon the figures, but nothing worked. They felt familiar yet so unknown to him. Just where did Artimus come from? Did he have parents, or was he adopted? Artimus didn't know the answer to either of the questions. He dwelled on this for what seemed like minutes upon the ship, but before he could even reimagine his possible home or family, Neko (it Means "Cat", goddammit) shouted "We're here, hunter!"

Artimus climbed out of the ship, and his first sight upon getting on land was of a tent to his left, a woman in front of him with a backpack at least five times here size strapped to her, and a smithy behind her, down a few steps of stairs. Artimus walked forward, noticing a wooden walkway to his left. This was another town of an island. All the land was concrete or wood, and had a stable foundation unlike Moga. Artimus walked across the walkway that led directly to the tavern he had heard so much about.

Upon his entry, there was a kitchen to his left with four stone stools for seats, a barrel in the middle of the area, a shopkeeper to the right of him, and the quest counter behind the shopkeeper. Across from where he stood was the area for department on quests, with boats lined up for sail. Aside from the kitchen cooks, shopkeep, and quest givers, the place had no life, except for one hunter sitting at one of the stools. Clad in Jaggi armor with a helmet that covered his face from the sides, and small jaggi sword strapped to his back, just at his waistline. The hunter had his back turned toward Artimus.