Once a god, now something less…
A pioneer, visionary, alchemist and industrialist, archibald Ganse was a man well ahead of his time.
A noblewoman of mixed pedigree, patron of the arts and infamous for playing ‘the older woman’.
Many claim him to have been of their own, be they mages or clerics, thieves or warriors. Such was the legacy of Atal, the Wise Councilor.
Devoted to the Goddess of War, Prince Yakaw is second to none in the crafting and use of swords mundane and magical.
‘That’s a nice tunic you’ve got there, I think I’ll take it…’
Marv, the Brigand
Vagrants, vagabonds, gaberlunzies, gypsies, thieves, beggars and more, presenting a list of 30 of the downtrodden and desperate.
‘Remember Lais and do your job well, perhaps one day you’ll be a Princess in a foreign land.’
The Promise of many a brothel keeper.
Dare you approach the great and mighty Modock! KNEEL!
From this day forth, let this Kingdom be free from the tyranny of the gods and their chosen!
King Mapother IV quoting Provost Layton Frost
Topaz you say, looks like a good quality citrine to me. I’ll give you 8 pieces of silver for it.
Galvinus driving a bargain.
Well, this certainly looks like a K’tonian artifact but if you notice the grooves on the bottom, that means that this was actually made on a Jiyong potters wheel as an imitation of the K’tonian style of pottery. This is a replica, albeit a 700 year old, very good replica. I do happen to know a buyer who would be willing to pay you for it.
“A pox on him, stealing all of our peasants!”
quote attributed to many neighboring lords
Courtly contessas, contributed and collaborated upon by Citadelians!
Barnacles and bilge rats, a pernicious package of perfidious pirates!
A parcel of pretty princesses
A cold and cadavorous collection of nefarious necromancers.
The Pretty Princess Scroll
Ye Olde English
Oblat - A soldier who, grown impotent or maimed in service, hath maintenance or the benefit of a monk’s place assigned him in an abbey
30 slingers of spells, vendors of enchantment, and bizarrement.
Idea from the Aeneid. Could make an intriguing encounter when searching for firewood..."Quite near there happened to be a mound of earth, at the highest part of which were growing thickets of cornel and a dense cluster of spiky myrtle-stems. I went up there and tried to wrench the green growth from the ground to provide a leafy covering for our altar. There I was confronted by a horrible and astounding miracle. For from the first bush which I tried to break off...blood oozed in dark drops, fouling the earth with its spots...A piteous moan came from the base of the mound and I heard a human voice answering me: 'Why, Aeneas, must you rend a poor sufferer? I am buried here...for I am Polydorus. Here death overpowered me in a crop of piercing iron-pointed spears. And so a crop resembling javelins has grown over me...'"