30 painted ladies of the oldest profession. Reader discretion is advised.
The 13 living statues of the Dal Nastro ruins
The Arcade is a long narrow entertainment district built upon the dried up Arcadey creek. This jurisdictional no mans land has become a vibrant section of the city.
30 musicians to entertain at balls, taverns, and other social gatherings.
Come! Hear Uncle Jehan's band, by the river's side...
The Black Bard of Nihilism
Alowin Brackwater is a beautiful young man, with mesmerizing eyes and a sly, mischievious expression. He just happens to be painted on a large canvas, rather than being alive. Surely, this cannot be held against him.
Extras and alternate “headliners” for The Carnival of Forgotten Souls and other traveling shows
Lion Man in The Carnival of Forgotten Souls
Feral boy in The Carnival of Forgotten Souls
“Missing Link” in The Carnival of Forgotten Souls
Tattooed lady in The Carnival of Forgotten Souls
Thin man & knife thrower in The Carnival of Forgotten Souls
Ringmaster of the Carnival of Forgotten Souls
The tragic fate of the legendary beauty has left traces behind until this day.
A noblewoman of mixed pedigree, patron of the arts and infamous for playing ‘the older woman’.
‘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.
Inspired by a secret muse, a humble man sketches heroes and battles for the folk of the Market Quarter.
Neither here nor there, the City of Shadows borders on the twilight of existance…
Yeah yeah, I know the Duke. Of course I do. P. Donkey Donque travels in some high circles, jester.
One day a a wind begins to blow out of the West. The next day it gets stronger. And stronger still the next few days. Eventually (and fortunately), the speed of the wind tops out at a steady fifty miles an hour, but continues to blow. Soon an entire kingdom is wondering why it's not abating. The weather mages deem it unnatural but can't seem to banish or control it. The priests of various faiths claim it's divine. The End-Of-Days crowd is having a field day with their predictions of doom. No one knows why the gale persists. When inquiring with neighboring kingdoms, it seems they too suffer from a persistent western mistral. Eventually the populace begins to adapt to living with a twenty four hour a day wind. Always from the West, and perpetual. What could be causing this? A raging Elemental king? a curse from the gods? an unearthed artifact? Or has Nature itself gone haywire?