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.
The elven race epitomizes the most noble traits to be found among the children of the gods, in keeping with their mythic status as the first-born and most beloved of the creative forces that gave rise to our world.
So we poor benighted mortals guilessly believe,subjugated by the awe that holds us in thrall of these dazzling beings that exude perfection. But rob an elf of his exquisite beauty,and what do you see in the depths of his soul? Does the inside reflect the unflawed sublimity of the surface? Perhaps not…
History is full of interesting and exotic people who can help to populate your world. They can help illuminate the range of what people think is possible for your world (or you can consider them PCs run by players not in your game).
“Where do they get those marvelous toys” you ask. The other hero smiles, “I guess you have not been hooked up.” He hands you a card.
Maker of Devices for the Discriminating Operative
Hanging on the arm of a wealthy upper crust man, she was the perfect arm charm. But you swear, you have seen her before.
“Beep Click, Identify yourself or be removed.”
Some cities have more spirit than others.
A hypercaffinated ball of technical investigation energy.
He shuffles along in his ragged clothing, mumbling “Leave me alone”.
Fanboy turned expert, Toby is a unlikely contact, but one you want to have.
“Welcome to my place.”
Psychic on Duty is all the aged red neon sign says in the storefront window. It is a small storefront and in a less than great section of town. You don’t expect much.
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…
A mad doctor who dared defy the laws of the natural order, to transcend death itself, and the creature he created.
The city of Nausopol is built on stilts. Lots of very sturdy stilts and butresses, of course, because it rises about five hundred feet from the ocean. Even the most terrific of storms is only heard in the city as a distant cacophony of blasts as waves strike the solid stonework fathoms below. It has never been attacked because of its isolation and impregnability.
It's not a place for the faint-hearted: vertigo and sea-sickness are not desirable traits. But when you are standing in the middle of the city there is no way you could tell that you were standing above an ocean, separated only by a gulf of air and a few stones.
A thousand steps lead down from Nausopol to the floating docks. These docks are pitch-coated wooden and can be raised by winches during squalls. Trade with other cities and countries is good: Nausopol is built over a sunken atoll whose minerals are still mined by divers, and it was from this that it originally derived its wealth.
But the principal method of getting to and from the city is by riding the giant sea-eagles which have been captured and bred for that very reason.