The 30: The thirty miscellaneous people who are part of some group. These are drop and play personalities for a given group.
Send in the clowns.
Here are the thirty Rangers of the Bushland National Park-the good the bad, the clean and the dirty.
Herein are listed 30 Barkeeps, Bartenders, or proprietary owners of the drinking and sleeping establishments so frequented by adventurers and their loyal henchmen.
An old, kind apothecary. She is sweet as honey and genuine too.
He’s a strange foreigner who doesn’t act like us… Suspicious.
He shuffles along in his ragged clothing, mumbling “Leave me alone”.
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 blind mage with a liking for sound-based magics
Faster than the wind, this Red Cap Messenger flies (okay, okay, runs - but you get the idea).
Corina Archerus is a researcher and a wizard. She is also completely blind.
Need some extra muscle, Ugg might be your man - if you don’t mind having to explain EVERYTHING to him
Chae lives to serve, and ultimately die in that service, if need be. As a Bushi-Killian warrior in the service to Lord Kim, he focuses upon his given missions & tries very hard to stay part of the crowd. When on assignment, Chae is a relentless, dedicated, slayer of men.
Sharry is a typical Formourian street urchin. Her name is a corruption of her given name, Michele of Ryanhold (where she’s from). She gets by on scrounging for scraps, begging, and the occassional opportunistic theft.
She wanted a Genii as her magical slave, but when the spell went wrong, she ended up becoming one herself…
A great demon of death and destruction.
Dimble Stumpwater is this worlds last best hope for expedient library book returns
A feral, neanderthal-like man whose become a (somewhat) king amonsgst men, sorta.
Do you know what this means? asked the healer, staring earnestly at the boy from beneath his bushy white eyebrows.
Xander shook his head, his lip trembling.
The healer’s felt a rush of sympathy for the child. he reminded him of Shalleah somehow. 13 years was such a young age to die.
“You have but three months left.” he said slowly and softly. Each word rang solitarily through the room, and though they were whispered they had more impact then anything the young boy had ever heard before.
Worldly girl from a small northern berg, who likes to get in trouble.
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.