Need a mercenary, or two, or fifty? Don’t know whether to hire the Crimson Brigade or the Azure Legion? Unsure of Tim the Dragon-slayer’s effectiveness? Don’t know how to contact a group to set up a contract? Then come see Arkath, the man who can answer all those questions and more.
Thoral’s grim brigade is a mercenary unit under curse. They are led by Thoral, a half-undead half-realdead reanimated barbarian who negotiates the brigades affairs in a terse and direct whisper.
I don’t know what it was that set Shoutin’ Sam off, but when he left, it was like goddamned Apaches had busted in here and had a scalpin’ party in the saloon…
Failure. For most, it is an occasional streak of bad luck to be suffered. For others… well, it’s a living.
The saloon was smokey on the hot prairie night. She looked over her fan at her fellow players. The fan hid her smile, but not the smile in her eyes. “Well Gentlemen, I think I won’t call you on that.” Her dollars hit the table. “I think I’ll raise.”
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.
Thenadore is a small boy who always laugh and who is considered a child prodigy. However there is a secret concerning him. A secret few knows about.
Matronly owner of the local tavern.
The Magistrate has something of a reputation for Solomonic wisdom and the determining of past events. While the magistrate is not a stupid man by any stretch of the imagination, his reputation stems from his assistant rather than his innate abilities. Grisus is that assistant.
Jefficus? Oh yes, Jessius’s friend.
Oh her? She is that girl. She is Jessius’s girl.
A charismatic young man, a local community leader, a tragedy waiting to happen.
Man, too, is a primal creature, though he binds himself with the chains named Reason and Law, locked link by link from birth. Yet, those locks can be opened, the links broken, in both the savage world of the street-slum, and in the gilded cages of nobility.
One such creature is the falconer Jon Raptorclaw, once no more than a street urchin, now one of the king’s most valued rangers.. when he can be found.
A harper is a harper no matter where they are.
Shelandra looks the part of a powerful Necromantic Sorceress. She is tall, pale, and coldly beautiful. She has a castle that always seems to have a storm over it. She has pet monsters. She has a small personal army of Skeletons. She scares the peasants and makes the local nobles uneasy. However, if pressed, nobody can actually recall her doing anything really Evil.
Hanging on the arm of a wealthy upper crust man, she was the perfect arm charm. But you swear, you have seen her before.
A hypercaffinated ball of technical investigation energy.
Fanboy turned expert, Toby is a unlikely contact, but one you want to have.
“Welcome to my place.”
Old man Hardnan had a farm E-I-E-I-O
And on this farm there was a dragon E-I-E-I-O
Bwah! What kinda farmer has dragons on his farm!
Magic is like alcohol, the more that is used, the more it causes a hangover later on and the less judgement one has when using it. If one waits a while after casting a spell, things "detoxify." A cantrip or two is like a sip of weak beer, whilst a large creation spell is like a bottle of vodka. Cast something too big and you can die from magic intoxication.