Chapter III: Secrets of Odo Island
By Gwynplaine de Orme
We were not prepared for everything Odo Island was to show us. The island lent itself to the image of an idyllic tropical paradise complete with small but energetic fishing villages, vibrant, sweet-smelling flowers, a plethora of colorful animals -- the whole package. The weirdest thing, however were the islanders themselves. All of them, including the women, were six-foot or more. It was indescribably strange to see people who are largely of Japanese descent be not just taller than the home-islanders but taller than most Americans and Europeans. At six-three, I was used to being the tallest person in a room, but I saw more than one of these islanders a head or more taller than myself.
As we tried not to stare too obviously at them, a thickly-built elderly bronze man with hair that spiked out in awkward ways, dressed in a white and green robe came up to me roughly half an hour after we’d been on the island. He smiled weakly