Yeah yeah, I know the Duke. Of course I do. P. Donkey Donque travels in some high circles, jester.
A villain with a taste for living art.
Send in the clowns.
A dashing Bard, who also happens to be a shared drug experience.
Failure. For most, it is an occasional streak of bad luck to be suffered. For others… well, it’s a living.
A harper is a harper no matter where they are.
Some cities have more spirit than others.
Gregory Merchant is an art dealer in Daggersford. He is well-versed in art, history, and art history, but rarely brings these subjects up other than in context of a sale. His sales technique is very low-pressure, and he is content to let people browse his shop. There are a few small statues available, but the shop focuses on paintings of various sizes, values, and significance. He seems perpetually distracted. Is it a ruse?
A result of the experiments of the world’s first bioengineer, as manifested by a needle and thread and a whole lot of blotting paper.
A lot of travelling singers have a flame or incessant longing in their heart.This woman’s heart holds something more as well.
How much life can the stroke of a brush place to a canvas? Perhaps art does imitate life, the Artist knows. The Artist is usually looking for new models.
A lovable old traveller with a voice that can make stories come alive.
A melancholy bard, with good reason.
There are reports of a monster that lurks in the tops of trees and drops down on unsuspecting people. It causes them no damage but it frightens them with a hide-like face with big dead eyes, drooling and barking like a dog while unsuccessfully attempting to have intercourse. The PCs investigate and find that it is the local village moron that is doing the spelunking in the woods. How can they explain this otherwise pleasant and merry man that it is wrong to put on a mask, drop down from trees and attempt intercourse with relatives and neighbours.