"You would be wise not to cross me. I have powers that you cannot even begin to comprehend. Do not anger me, lest I turn you into a goose, fat and ugly. Then if you are lucky and I am in a forgiving mood, I won’t eat you for supper."
Based on Muro’s Archaic Words Challenge, the word myomancer.
There is a tournament and now the town is flooded with Knights. OR there is a huge group of nights the characters are interacting with. Now you have to fill out those personalities. Here is 30 of them.
Thirty Mages for every kind of magical world out there.
Forsooth! A fair flock of faithful friars, from fanciful to factual.
A minor mess of magnates for myriad monarchies.
Now with Scroll functions! Add your own!
“That’s got be the worst assassin I’ve ever seen.”
Some times you just need a horde of police officers…
The 30: The thirty miscellaneous people who are part of some group. These are drop and play personalities for a given group.
Some see him as a loathesome reminder of their faliure to cow a race humanity deems unworthy of existence. Others deem him a noble hero and resistance-fighter, a beacon of hope and courage to all the downtrodden of the galaxy.
Regardless, you don’t want to smell his breath. Or ever see him up close.
The champion of the Goddess of War!
The Sleeping King is a near mythic figure that has a presence in real history. Originally called the Lost King, he came from a Land to the East where he had been a King. He left his Land because he felt he had failed his people ( the details are vague upon this point). He arrived here to discover a land under the boot of Merideth the Great. He vowed that, “All people shall be free to live as they need to live. No one should live as a slave to a man or fear!” Thus he began to lead. From a small band came The Six Armies Who Were One. Upon the final assault on Merideth, he brought freedom to The Six Lands. Then left, vowing to return if needed.
This powerful and ruthless legendary leader amassed an army of Beastmen and mercenaries conquering most of The Six Lands. His rule was ruthless, treating the people of the lands as slaves. He took the resources he needed for his campaigns without regard for the “sheep” left behind. He oppressed the people for nearly two decades before being overthrown by the Six Armies who march as One and the Sleeping King.
Do as thou Will…
"I have seen the beast, tentacled and cruel. Tore out me eye, it did, like pickin’ a plum. It’s cursed, I tell ye, cursed to its cold heart."
-Jerboam the Sailor
Misunderstood and much maligned, the Hek is a traveller who dreads violence. If it only understood the violence it caused.
Half robot, half vampire
Doomed by the Shadow…
With the evil in the hearts of men…
The Shadow grows
Neither here nor there, the City of Shadows borders on the twilight of existance…
Bad luck just seems to follow him everywhere. Some say its a curse, others its just in his head. But there’s one thing everyone can agree about Poor Josias: he is a sad, sad man.
“Do you trust me? Do you feel I can get you through this night?”
They looked unsure. Slowly, each nodded. One even spoke, “I believe you can get me through this night.”
“Good. I believe we can reach the morning light. Now here is what we need to do…...”
These magical boots empower the wearer with several abilities at once. Wondrous leaping, water-walking, and even flying! Yet the boots possess an insidious curse upon them as well. A deep and almost unfathomable (by others) feeling of listlessness, boredom, and even apathy affects the boots' wearer at all times whenever they are donned. Magic will not dispel the effects.
And so while the wearer of the boots can perform great feats of action during combat or at other opportune times and key moments, they'll never really want to do so, complaining "Meh, what's the point of it all anyway?" or "I would fly up and save us all guys, but sigh, maybe uhm, soonish, mkay? Bit bored by this whole burning tower at the moment."
Naturally the boots wearer's fellow PCs will grow quickly frustrated with this arrangement. There have been numerous occasions when one angry PC literally tears off the boots from his companion's feet in anger, and dons them in turn, only to immediately suffer from the same effects.
The solution lies in constantly "motivating" the boots' wearer with successful rolls, involving threats, flattery, fiery speeches, or even bribery.