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!
Once a ‘stew-plate’ assassin, Bren Bloodblade has come up swiftly in the underworld, his talents genuinely disturbing to the powers that be…
This might not be suitable for the squeamish or easily offended.
Some people are going to be the “new guy” all their lives.
Every troop has a shifty eyed grumbler. This is ours. He is also The Captain’s Second.
A natural leader of men, his troops would follow him to the nether realms, because they knew he would bring them back.
Some time magic users are less magical than one expects.
Two cynical and witty old pentioners watching the world go by and commenting on it.
By late afternoon, the sky starts to cloud over. The sun shines behind the fluffy clouds, gilding the edges and showing a Jacob's-ladder of rays streaming through the gaps...very pretty. Gradually the clouds shift into a new configuration: you realize with awe-struck, preternatural clarity that the clouds form a map of a coast-line that you know against the blue sky as ocean: surely it's a Sign! Suddenly, the golden beams coalesce into one long ray that strikes across the blue. A star-like gleam flashes under the ray: perhaps it is an island? But the charts show no island there...who would want to hide an island? Who could do it?