Ildran is a cold blooded murderer who prefers fire over all other methods. He immolates his victims by trapping them inside wooden structures and then torching them. He is also meticulous about eliminating witnesses quickly and finally.
Thief, murderer, mercenary, criminal boss and general pox on humanity.
Inspired by Ulysses Klaue
A Revised and improved collection of scallywags, scoundrels, and nautical ne'er do wells.
Freya is very tall and thin, you would know her if you saw her, for her eyes are shining from within. her face beautifully adorned teeth razor sharp; her clothes of the softest silk and her voice as soft as a harp. She sways her head from side to side, with movements like a snake; And when you think she's half asleep, she's really wide awake!
The dark elf femme fatale Elainuk was the firstborn son of Robert and Lulu Bobblecork. She was born a healthy bouncy baby boy in the shire of Pedstand, which was part of the Cordially Aligned Tetrarchy of Halfling States.
Ex-daughter of wealthy corporate execs and former leader of The Rust Scopions turned information broker and mercenary, suitable for sci-fi/cyberpunk games
Born in 1969, just a few weeks after the Apollo 11 mission landed on the moon, Ike Rust's adult life became, in itself, a giant leap for mankind. However, it was not a leap mankind was willing to make with him.
"Getting their attention is easy, you just need to hold it. But that doesn't concern you. Just make sure it's quick, then move on. You'll know when I wink."
'I can't go back to yesterday, I was a different person then' ~ Mad Alice
Like the mythical hydra, the Illuminati have many heads and even more hands. The minions of the Illuminati might work to their hidden master's ends without ever knowing the design of their work, or for whom they indeed work for.
A charming but withdrawn noble who goes out and kills people in the name of The Locust at night.
Cranson's Captain of the Guard (Character Sheet)
The rain poured down on the city of Grathen in a relentless beat that would marvel the best of drummers. It beat down on the public buildings, with pedestrians streaming in front of, with eyes cast upwards and lips mumbling prayers to Rain Gods. It beat down on the Slums, where thieves were mumbling thanks to their gods for all these people looking up and not at their purses. And it beat down on Ariel Lorette, a girl of 13, escaping from horrors beyond the common person's imagination. Ariel Lorette, with rain streaming down her face and hiding her tears of pain and sorrow and, above all, victory. For Ariel had escaped them. Ariel was free.
A sadistic murderer.
More than one convoy crossing the Southwest, traveling through the Republic of Texas and Rocky Mountain Republic has found themselves in the crosshairs of a heavy black transfer truck and it's deranged driver.
A burned out cop with very little to live for finds that you can't take the fight out of the dog. (NSFW language.)
The Tlu ‘che a Naust lu’ Phlithus a Jal is not an easy path to walk, and none take it lightly, or willingly.rnrn~ Faerlani lu’Noamuth Che’el
You should probably get ready for some trouble...
"Compared to the scum I deal with as a cop, fighting you was a piece of cake!"
Molk Peruda is encountered by the PCs on the second day of their journey west from the salt-choked port of Quyn, as they prepare to explore the jungle.
He appears a gaunt, wolfish man, with matted, dark hair that sprouts from his head in dreadlocks, contrasting with his well-oiled, blue-black, conical beard. His eyes are hidden ebon shards beneath thick arching brows, his nose, crooked, long, and reminiscent of a snout. His mouth is a thin, dark line, his teeth unseen even when he parts his lips to speak.
His skin is the color of tallow, surprising perhaps for a renowned jungle guide, yet his natural helm of dreads and the jungle's canopy keeps the sun from bronzing his originally pale flesh. On his back are tattooed three women from the waist up, side-by-side, each resembling the other but of different ages. This is a tattoo of Molk's mother, sister, and daughter. His wife (don't bring her up to him!) was killed by marauding Qullan years ago, and appears as her own tattoo on his broad but sunken chest.
His feet shockingly are turned around 180 degrees at the ankle, facing towards his back! A curse from a pernicious shaman. Molk walks feet backwards (he's used to it) and walks backwards, forwards. This can be very disconcerting and outright creepy to the PCs as he guides them through the rainforest.
Slung from his back is an archer's quarrel of treated wood carved to resemble a stalking leopard, in his hand a re-curved composite bow of horn and sinew, with a pair of vivid, red eyes, each one painted on the opposite side of the hand-grip. In a leather sheath at his belt, hangs a falchion, its pommel adorned with a curved bird's head and beak.