Neither here nor there, the City of Shadows borders on the twilight of existance…
Yeah yeah, I know the Duke. Of course I do. P. Donkey Donque travels in some high circles, jester.
A villain with a taste for living art.
Send in the clowns.
A dashing Bard, who also happens to be a shared drug experience.
Failure. For most, it is an occasional streak of bad luck to be suffered. For others… well, it’s a living.
A harper is a harper no matter where they are.
Some cities have more spirit than others.
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 result of the experiments of the world’s first bioengineer, as manifested by a needle and thread and a whole lot of blotting paper.
A lot of travelling singers have a flame or incessant longing in their heart.This woman’s heart holds something more as well.
How much life can the stroke of a brush place to a canvas? Perhaps art does imitate life, the Artist knows. The Artist is usually looking for new models.
A lovable old traveller with a voice that can make stories come alive.
A melancholy bard, with good reason.
The frozen wastes stretch for miles around. Something waddles through the snow. It's a penguin: An emperor penguin. It waddles slowly, meandering toward the sea. The ranger freezes. "Stay very still," he warns. "Don't move at all." "What is it?" I ask, breathlessly. "It's the most dangerous creature in the whole Yahoo Tundra, and that penguin's about to kick its butt..." (Sorry, Epi! I couldn't resist!)