Valin Mattheis grew up amongst the rolling hills and gnarled oak trees of California’s central coast, whiling his days away collecting dead animals and engaging in petty theft. As is the practice and tradition of his kind, he also spent all the time normally dedicated to bettering oneself and securing a place in respectable society endlessly drawing various terrible and inane monstrosities. An inveterate layabout, an esteemed high school drop-out, and a lover of skeletons, he was able to realize his dream of sleeping through most of his higher education. As such, his repertoire of useless skills and vaults of pointless knowledge does stand high, like a glorious and functionless monolith to gods whose faithful have all since gotten jobs and done something productive with their lives that doesn't involve flint knives and entrails.