His eyesight isn’t what it was, but he’s still got a brilliant way with calfskin.
A man of extremes
This scroll is for all those hardworking people that keep our adventurer’s Inns and Taverns working.
Many hearts have been lost to the hypnotic beauty of the Elves' immortal Queen; others have bowed to the grandeur of the Lord of the Forest. You don't think that happens by itself, do you? They send for Boldrei!
So, you walk in the tavern. It is a fairly average place, good sized ceiling, a roaring fire, lots of tables. There is a crowd of about 30 people….
Ssao E’hzeir, once a soldier, then a mandarin-magistrate, and then a clan-father, was rewarded for years of faithful service with the post of alytarch.
LLorryn of The Singing Steel was known as LLorryn of Rydlin in his lifetime. During that lifetime he crafted thirteen of the famed Singing Blades, as well as numerous other charms and magic items. All are known for his trademark, the ringing sound caused by the magic flowing through them.
A little snug for me, but you…a perfect fit.
The legendary blacksmith, founder of clan Ironspirit, and he whom brought the steel of the Gods themselves to mortal man.
The new royal nurse. She is young, innocent and ever so boring. She is also knowledgable about the secrets of the state, having overheard many a conversation between the King, the Queen and their advisors.
Matronly owner of the local tavern.
He’s a strange foreigner who doesn’t act like us… Suspicious.
Many who see him think he is a powerful, scary, and undead. Two out of three are correct.
Oh her? She is that girl. She is Jessius’s girl.
Cornelia served the Grand Wizard Elkhorne for many years, tending dutifully to his laboratory and making sure his robes were properly cleaned and mended. That was until Cornelia slipped and fell down the spiraling staircase from the orrey and broke her neck…and died.
Dracia Eldren was a sharp featured woman. Her long greying hair was pulled back into a severe coif. Narrowed black eyes studied the potential Princess stand-ins. Darcia was well schooled in the ways of ettiquette. She was a seasoned Mistress. Her name was well known about the different Kingdoms and Queendoms.
She was the woman you contacted when you wanted your daughter to become the well cultured and well taught pillar of nobility. She was the woman who schooled young princesses on the fine art of being noble. Dracia was as strict as they come. Years of practice allowed her to use a switch upon her subject without leaving any marks. Only a sharp stinging pain as a reminder of their failures. She lives for her work.
If you wanted to infiltrate a kingdom with a doppleganger…you needed the help of a professional. One who knew all the ends and outs of Princess behavior.
Her dark grey coat hardly never touched the ground as she walked. Her back arched and her head held up proudly. Darcia fingered the switch at her side as she studied these potentials. These potentials were of poor condition. Some of them were farmer’s daughters. Pathetic. She had her work cut out for her. At all times there would need to be at least three princess replacements in training. They would have to learn together. Eat together and train together. Every movement would have to be perfect. And she only tolerated perfection.
Being an artisan first and a merchant second afford Astria a measure of wealth and independence. She specializes in creating jewelry and art pieces with semi-precious/precious stones and metals. Most of her income comes from works commissioned by the wealthy denizens of Widow’s Edge and the surrounding towns. She also owns and operations a little curio shop.
At first glance Astria appears to be just what she projects the artsy shop owner with a hello and smile for all that she encounter. If one were to look closer they would see the energy that pulses around her, the alertness in eyes, the readiness to act at a moments notice. Astria is more than a mere shop owner; she really returned to Widow’s Edge to investigate the attacks on the towns that started when she was a child and claimed the life of her father. During the daylight hours she works as jewelry/art maker but when darkness falls she slides into the night like others slide into clothes. Astria’s mode of dress when doing her nightly patrols is a black shirt, black pants and black suede boots. She also wears a black scarf and veil to hide her hair and face. Her weapons of choice is the katana sword, which she wears, strapped to her back and a set of seven throwing knives that are secured to her upper right thigh by a leather strap. During the daylight hours the weapons are cleverly hidden under her clothes.
A powerful conjurer with an affinity for iron, Sorn has paid a terrible price for his power.
Two adventurers retiring in their prime, or are they really retiring? Set themselves up as proprietors of a Weapnsmithe and a Tavern but still have there fingers deep on the pulse of adventure.
An ancient old man, whose seen his fair share of bar fights. Still vigourous despite his age, he knows the tales and legends of the surronding area almost as well as he knows the chipped steins of his inn.
The party has found the source of the strange creatures roaming the countryside. The rift in this reality glows with a silver hue, rippling with the wind but never moving. They step through and are immediately assaulted with the scent of rotting meat, some have to muster all their strength not to vomit. Strange cries similar to the beasts the party had faced before can be heard in the distance. Looking around, they see they are in a forest of grey and red rather than the normal brown and green. The trees are sticky to the touch and writhe, perhaps to get away or perhaps as a warning.
The deeper the party goes, the more the forest seems to slither and move underfoot. The cries get closer and more numerous. Creatures lurk in the shadows, all the same color of their surroundings. Whatever the party came in here for, they had better do it fast.
The forest of flesh is waking up, and it is so very hungry.