Crunk is a typical sailor aboard the privateer Blue Raider. The ship sails from Formour, but like most of its crew, Crunk is from Osterre. As a Half-Orck, Crunk always has something to prove, and a chip on his shoulder large enough to throw his posture off.
A small fish in an even smaller pond, Marcus Dominitan is the harbourmaster of the port of Al’Alaric. A petty man with a big ego and greed to match, he is not above taking bribes to allow unlawful cargo, or to hire thugs to assault those he dislikes.
He is a merchant of fine wines and the only source for sparkling wines in the region. His formal politeness makes him seem like a friend.
This is the place for minor characters and extras. These are just personalities and some minor skills ready to be thrown into your campaign. They are not highly detailed becaue they are just extrasn in the game. They are useful to have a stack of just “hanging around” should you need them. So use um all, we will make more.
Peterus Winecrafter is a Thirdman, "He who knows People". He finds people work, arranges meetings between people, and can make other arrangements for you.
All the good ones break off from the the guild.
“That was the second lynching this month. And last week they haven beaten some old sod that could barely crawl home.”
“Well, he was a drinker and bad to his wife, sir. It is really hard work they do, and not for much pay. But sir, we are doing wonderfully, all is going as planned and better!”
“Yes, the cathedral could be built months before expected, if we can keep up this speed. You are all doing great work, I’ll be sure to inform the Patriarch. Just take care no accidents happen anymore.”
Most established villages have their neighborhood hermit and Enders is no exception. If only the folks of Enders knew who they harbored, it may have been a very different story for old Noam.
Dalme is one of the various travelling Tinkers plying their trade in the villages along the back roads. One can hear his cart from a arrow shot away, clanking and clinking, his wares: pans, pots, utensils, plow shares, cow bells, and other metal bits, banging against the side of his cart. The rest of his goods are kept inside his house cart (mugs, plates, fabric, ribbon, and other things) along with his anvil and fire bellows. He tells news, shares jokes, and does a bit of trading. He is everything a tinker is expected to be…. and unfortunately much more.
She wanted a Genii as her magical slave, but when the spell went wrong, she ended up becoming one herself…
This bundle of beautiful sparkling delight conceals a far darker side…
An evil priest with a believable character. His descent into evil is subtle, not “I’m gonna go worship this god of death and destruction!”
Human in a previous existence,one thing about this former Captain’s life has been left unchanged by its brush with the Black Tide.
Life as a street urchin is a pathetic existence indeed - and Me’fiante has it worse than most. In a back-alley underworld filled with trickery and subversion, the ability to sense lies is often more of a curse than a blessing.
When one has missed the chance for adventure, one finds it very difficult to get along with one’s heroic peers. Phineas Rowcome, the renowned Halfling scholar, nurses a deep jealousy for those whose lives are filled with excitement…
Looking for a charm to ward off evil spirits or the claw of a marsh dragon?
Need some willow bark for your headaches or a potion to cure a lack of virility?
Got a weird looking ring and you don’t know what it is?
Dural could be your man.
An old, wise and learned wizard, he tends to forget more about the world than most people have learned, most often the most basic things.
A socially inept and ugly human monk, with a smattering of arcane skills, on a quest of vengeance to find his mentor’s killers.
A burned and withered female elven ranger, with a hatred of giants, a love for animals, and a desire to seek out and thank the man who saved her life and disappeared just as quickly.
Raven man is half raven an half man. He has bird feet and wings.
It seemed like a great place to camp. The clearing was good sized and sheltered from the wind. The brook just a few feet away. There is a natural hallow to keep the horses.
Then the night came.
It was like it became a different place. The temperature dropped. The wind, which does not seem to disturb cloth, almost cuts through you like an arctic wind. No one can sleep, as the soft ground has turned hard. The horses are uneasy. The Bats are flying over and stopping in the trees.
And then there is the eyes. There are glowing eyes just inside the tree line watching your group. The mages and clerics can detect nothing, but there is still something there.
(yet there is nothing at all... The Darkness will do nothing unless the players do something to it. And even then it will all seem to be a conincidence.)
Of course, in the morning, it all becomes sweet and light.