The bow is a highly intelligent weapon, with memories and plans. The wielder of the bow is a brainless zombie, who is still perfectly capable of wielding the weapon. Together, they're an NPC.
Do me a favor, stay dead this time.
A young sorcerous vampire with a penchant for making zombies.
A mostly fleshed out 'wizard' character for your fantasy adventure.
Note from the Author: I originally created this background for a PC. You might find this background a little generic, but I found it sufficient to inspire complications from the GM's seat. This submission was heavily influenced by Harry Potter. If that hasn't sent you packing, enjoy.
Crazy old woman, selling pieces of bone and fake charms. The fact that the villagers even tolerate the old eye-roller hag demonstrates a lack of piety to the Faith.
Belphegor - A demon of Sloth and Greed
A dark wizard who is marginally kind after being cruel and wicked.
‘‘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’‘.
The surprising thing about young fools is how many survive to become old fools.
A modern day doctor who’s lack of morality has led him down dark demoniacally unnatural paths he hopes will give him complete control over his patients lives.
Frozen to death by a penny pinching, cruel landlord, the Frozen Woman has found her vengeance against her killer, and now seeks to destroy those who might do unto others what was done unto her.
In addition to her general oddity, Myna seems to have issues with common sense.
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..
"Yeeah!" the old man shouted as he made a dramatic flurry with his chalk - the mounted knight now bearing a stylized lance as it bore down on the many-headed dragon before it.
"Yes, there are some unusual patterns to these - her patients, but we have nothing to prove anything other than statistical anomalies."
A demon’s kiss burns with lust and with shame. So do their secrets and their magic.
"... I *hate* being right."
"I don’t like that one. He’s creepy. There’s something not right in the head with him. Course, I don’t much imagine that’s uncommon here, but he goes further than the rest of ‘em. I think he actually *likes* what they do to him."
Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms, greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge has marked the upward surge of mankind
Pismir the Miser
The Castellan of the Court of Dark Memory loyally serves the Twystened Sidhe, wielding unholy power in his ruthless determination to end an evil curse.
The third son of a candle-maker, and secretly a spy, Tsiao Fong Wei betrayed his family, clan, and town to the merciless Qongg Dynasty, causing the deaths of his own family members. He survived to an old age hiding out in the country side and keeping a low profile. One day however, the “Paper Knife” finally found Tsiao Fong Wei , and exacted his revenge on behalf of the folk, dead and tortured.
After a furious struggle, the “Paper Knife” plunged twin burning candles into the eyes of the traitorous old man and laughed, as Tsiao Fong Wei howled in dismay and pain. Some say Tsiao Fong Wei died that day. Others say that the old man somehow escaped despite his sudden anguish and utter blindness.
The truth is lost to time.
But to this day the children of the Red-Ridge County towns and villages are told by their parents to always beware twin lights in the darkness and to never venture into the woods at night, and to keep an ear open for the Groaning Ghost, for somewhere out there Tsiao Fong Wei the Traitor, now a vengeful spirit, stumbles about the darkness moaning and wailing, candles still sticking forth from out of his otherwise empty eye sockets. And though the candles plunged into his eyes all those years ago were a’flame going in, now the wax protuberances are somehow lit from within and burn without, and two flickering lights in the darkness, always portend his coming.