Thin man & knife thrower in The Carnival of Forgotten Souls
Ringmaster of the Carnival of Forgotten Souls
Satrya returns to her homeland, to the elves dismay.
From this day forth, let this Kingdom be free from the tyranny of the gods and their chosen!
King Mapother IV quoting Provost Layton Frost
Driven by a lifetime of anger, Modest Slatterbite and his “Staff of Truth” have come to condemn the “wicked”.
Within the lost tomb of Abu Khanut, Agarn the Impulsive brought the forgotten priest’s curse down upon his student, Alain Piercetongue. Now the wrath of an ancient god stalks the desert sands.
Half robot, half vampire
... And Alexi, Please don’t let this bring you down. You have your entire life ahead of you - Let me become nothing more than a memory. We will never see each other again.
I will make a prison that is as inescapable as the crime that infests our cities and towns
Emma Verney is the black sheep of the rich and noble Verney family because of her strange liking of the Orc tribes of the wastelands.Such a liking may well have got her into deep trouble with the Orcs and her fellow humans alike.
Saddah, the patron of games. A mysterious woman you might see around games of luck, undoubtly another fan… or an evil spirit that will take the most driven gambler with her.
On the surface, Sir Edmund Verney is a very good man, deeply loved by most citizens of Karnivhal. He is a war hero, knighted on the battlefield,a curer of diseases, and one of those who purged the country of evil mages. However, he himself has a deeply hidden secret life, that he wants very much to keep hidden by any means nesscessary…
“Beep Click, Identify yourself or be removed.”
Not strong of body, and questionable of mind, she has a kind heart and one special talent. She is not a healer of wounds, or even of people, she heals the souls of creatures. She feels sympathy for even the most hideous and terrible of creatures, and when her tears for them fall upon them, their hearts are moved and their evil ways ended(for a little while at least).
“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.”
This bundle of beautiful sparkling delight conceals a far darker side…
A socially inept and ugly human monk, with a smattering of arcane skills, on a quest of vengeance to find his mentor’s killers.
When did it all start? He would never know for sure, although he traces it, like a finger on a map following the broad river back to the invisible thread of the beginnings, to one evening early winter.
(Name translates directly from ancient Egyptian as: Strong Protector, the Hidden One.) A mysterious shaman appearing without regard to wheres and whens, upon the divine bidding of other Realms. An entity of legend, belonging to a legendary and ancient sect.
Clef was a regular gnome, just like all of the other gnomes. It just happened that his area of interest was not so agreeable to the other gnomes…
A small, enchanted chest, 2 feet on a side. It is of some dark wood with fantastical images graved upon it. Worn leather straps act as hinges and a simple toggle keeps it closed. Anything placed within it, with the lid closed, becomes accessible to anyone with one of the other 5 identical chests. Once it is taken out of any one of the 6, the chest is empty again. Perfect for passing messages or small items between widespread groups, such as ships at sea and their ports of call or generals on the field of battle.