8.) The Revolutionary
This guard is a secret revolutionary. He has a deep hatred for members of the aristocracy, and has made getting this job his lifes work, with the sole intention of assassinating members of the royal family when he gets the chance. So far he has been unsuccessful, first because he needed to gain their trust and then because he has never had the chance-other guards have always been in the right place at the right time. He did once use poison, but the result was not fatal for the target, who put it down to badly cooked food and sacked two of the royal cooks. In battle, he would try and kill as high-ranking a noble as he could: And if he could get away with it, a noble on his own side.
A highly talented chef, this young man takes great pride in his job.
‘‘You want to know why we have that big old granite statute of a catfish? Why son, that’s old Kugamu. Everytime folks around here be wanting to get a good catch from the lake, we grab some maggots, pig shit and old beef gone bad. Then we mash it up all together and toss it into the lake for him to eat. He’s partial to that, is old Kugamu. Bless his heart, he’s never let us down even once’‘.
Unique among the sea monsters that infest the oceans of Acqua, this abomination is cursed with a hunger for power that can never be satisfied.
Poor little Kankos..
Spat upon by his tyrannical superiors, this pathetic little office menial slaved away like a mule for the miserable pittance thrown to him..
Until he met the one that lurked in the shadows..
Endowed with a generous love for the untainted bounty of the natural environment, this enigmatic individual has all but forgotten what it means to be human..
Man, too, is a primal creature, though he binds himself with the chains named Reason and Law, locked link by link from birth. Yet, those locks can be opened, the links broken, in both the savage world of the street-slum, and in the gilded cages of nobility.
One such creature is the petty pirate, Gurad Sorgon. Unknown to those that dismiss him as being merely an ugly face among the multitude of floating scoundrels that abound on the lawless seas, this maruder conceals within him the soul of a prehistoric terror.
Some see him as a loathesome reminder of their faliure to cow a race humanity deems unworthy of existence. Others deem him a noble hero and resistance-fighter, a beacon of hope and courage to all the downtrodden of the galaxy.
Regardless, you don’t want to smell his breath. Or ever see him up close.
‘‘A thousand of the vile things we set alight, crying aloud the prayers of the Holy Redeemer as the demonic abombinations screamed in a chorus of almost human agony, utterly helpless against the flames that consumed their monstrous and deformed bodies. Never again will another human grace the banquet of these accursed fiends. But it pleases me even more to say that the gold which is so abundant in this heathen land, is now the sole propety of a nation blessed by the One God. No more will these repellent false deities lay claim to that which we have wrested from their worshippers’‘. -Corand Rogad, Conquerer of Tahutol
The elven race epitomizes the most noble traits to be found among the children of the gods, in keeping with their mythic status as the first-born and most beloved of the creative forces that gave rise to our world.
So we poor benighted mortals guilessly believe,subjugated by the awe that holds us in thrall of these dazzling beings that exude perfection. But rob an elf of his exquisite beauty,and what do you see in the depths of his soul? Does the inside reflect the unflawed sublimity of the surface? Perhaps not…
Human in a previous existence,one thing about this former Captain’s life has been left unchanged by its brush with the Black Tide.
Destined am I to hunt down and slay the half breed called Rachat, for only his demise can bring me what I yearn for…
Lord of the powerful Red Blade gang that has the bustling port city of Frohlk in its grip, this intelligent blob has come a very long way for something that was once a lowly pet. A pity then that he’ll never be invited over to any of the grand functions thrown by high society.
Over the primitive tribe of the Powi,Lucah the Handsome rules, his beauty and generosity dazzling the tribals that venerate him as a living god. But there are those dark ones who see his worship as blasphemy to the true demon lords…
Forced to flee by foes that cannot be defeated,this man will return one day to take back what is his.
Throughly despising the intrigue and scandals of the royal court,Prince Michael has never mourned the loss of his crown and inheritance to a treacherous advisor of his father’s. No,inflicting vengeance on the usurper and reclaiming his throne is too petty for him. He has a more important quest to fulfill..
A devoted and zealous priest of the Ice, Irad nevertheless is troubled by the brutal and vicious ways of those who worship it. Rather than crush and destroy the civilized folk of the South in its name, he would rather they be converted to the faith of his people and worship the Ice as their master. This he feels, can only be acomplished if they are encouraged to revere it rather than loathe it. It is indeed ironic that such a gentle and wise man serves the twisted Ice Lord..
As High chief and seer of the Bakali, the lizardman Baragh is aware that the vey survival of his doomed race hangs in his claws. Knowing that the odds stacked against him are great, he nevertheless pursuses with great doggedness his goal of finding a hero willing to aid him in his struggle to to restore the land of his ancestors back to its rightful masters. Though a part of him knows that the plight of a primitive race of non humans is unlikely to elicit much sympathy, he clings on to the hope that there will be someone brave and noble enough to share his cause.
Wary and suspicous of human and Orc alike, the halfbreed Gorlock trusts no one, not even his fellow half orcs whom he despises.Though he like his brethen is fated to be shunned by both humans and Orcs, he is troubled by their brutal code which demands that that which is not given freely must be taken by brute force.It is this sense of deceancy which marks him as a truly unique being among his kind…
Jemas Lorne, the most celebrated poet of the age, was found dead, clutching a fragment of verse torn from his journal. The tantalizing fragment spoke of wealth:
Golden sands, empty and cold,
Treasure's crypt, forgotten gold.
Under stone, ancestor's doom,
Noble's prize, troubadour's tomb.
Rumours claim that the poet's father, an eccentric nobleman, had hidden much of his wealth before his death. Perhaps the missing journal has more clues?