YO JOE!!! pew pew pew - pew pew pew
Human Interaction and Relations Robot, female appearance
The amazon brigade successfully rescued that bachsel in distress
A whole company of NPCs that can do the mundane jobs while the PCs do the hero stuff.
The power of the mind and of magic defies your pathetic attempts to understand them, submit and you will be spared
30 Assassins, both great and pathetic. - Die, by our hands…
30 Mostly Maddening Merchants
30 Guards, who in peacetime patrol the Palace and in wartime are the Royal Bodyguards and the King’s last defence.
Even the boldest quake with fear of the Kobelyn Cavalry of Terkuss Tahkhan! Especially if they’re on the same side!
You find yourself captured by Goblins. (We won’t ask, we know it is embarassing.) Looking for your escape, you begin to watch the Goblins. Suprisingly, they are a fairly complex bunch.
The grim and often belligerent denizens of the Grand Duchy of Nyir
‘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.
Stalwart men and true, they can be found wherever true heroes gather. What they’re doing there is a mystery to all…
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.
You step in from the fog swirled street. It is not as dark as you expected, but it is just as loud and smelly. There is about 30 people in this dockside bar.
You find yourself brought to the Great Lord’s Court after completing your assignment. Thanks are given. You are invited to the festivities later that day. Court is adjourned and you are now trapped in a room with numerous courtiers ....
Molk Peruda is encountered by the PCs on the second day of their journey west from the salt-choked port of Quyn, as they prepare to explore the jungle.
He appears a gaunt, wolfish man, with matted, dark hair that sprouts from his head in dreadlocks, contrasting with his well-oiled, blue-black, conical beard. His eyes are hidden ebon shards beneath thick arching brows, his nose, crooked, long, and reminiscent of a snout. His mouth is a thin, dark line, his teeth unseen even when he parts his lips to speak.
His skin is the color of tallow, surprising perhaps for a renowned jungle guide, yet his natural helm of dreads and the jungle's canopy keeps the sun from bronzing his originally pale flesh. On his back are tattooed three women from the waist up, side-by-side, each resembling the other but of different ages. This is a tattoo of Molk's mother, sister, and daughter. His wife (don't bring her up to him!) was killed by marauding Qullan years ago, and appears as her own tattoo on his broad but sunken chest.
His feet shockingly are turned around 180 degrees at the ankle, facing towards his back! A curse from a pernicious shaman. Molk walks feet backwards (he's used to it) and walks backwards, forwards. This can be very disconcerting and outright creepy to the PCs as he guides them through the rainforest.
Slung from his back is an archer's quarrel of treated wood carved to resemble a stalking leopard, in his hand a re-curved composite bow of horn and sinew, with a pair of vivid, red eyes, each one painted on the opposite side of the hand-grip. In a leather sheath at his belt, hangs a falchion, its pommel adorned with a curved bird's head and beak.