His true name is….
The Tattered are driven by hatred. All their lives they have done without, and given a chance to close in on those who ‘have’ they kill with disturbing intensity.
The Darkness is not a group of assassins. They are however, not friendly people.
First he becomes sweaty and feverish. Then the boils begin. The boils are beautiful. After that, he finds it difficult to breath, then move, then he drowns in his own blood. Is that sufficient?
The Strangler is a chaos entity worshipped by an assassin cult. Using narcotics in their worship members of this killing cult are very very dangerous.
Then all of a sudden, the victim gets convulsions and seizures, eyes bulging and mouth foaming.
“Sigh. Another mysterious, highly skilled assassin, with a difficult child hood and black clothes. Oh. This one has knives in his belt, not his boot. Well, at least it is not a Drow. ”
Warriors or bandits, terrorists or freedom fighters - depends on your point of view really
After a long day on the road, what could be more inviting than a hot meal and mug of ale - just don’t criticise the cook
A blind mage with a liking for sound-based magics
A form of magic whereupon talismans are grafted to the skin in order to grant power.
Some time magic users are less magical than one expects.
Two cynical and witty old pentioners watching the world go by and commenting on it.
Faster than the wind, this Red Cap Messenger flies (okay, okay, runs - but you get the idea).
Corina Archerus is a researcher and a wizard. She is also completely blind.
Need some extra muscle, Ugg might be your man - if you don’t mind having to explain EVERYTHING to him
Chae lives to serve, and ultimately die in that service, if need be. As a Bushi-Killian warrior in the service to Lord Kim, he focuses upon his given missions & tries very hard to stay part of the crowd. When on assignment, Chae is a relentless, dedicated, slayer of men.
Sharry is a typical Formourian street urchin. Her name is a corruption of her given name, Michele of Ryanhold (where she’s from). She gets by on scrounging for scraps, begging, and the occassional opportunistic theft.
Crunk is a typical sailor aboard the privateer Blue Raider. The ship sails from Formour, but like most of its crew, Crunk is from Osterre. As a Half-Orck, Crunk always has something to prove, and a chip on his shoulder large enough to throw his posture off.
A small fish in an even smaller pond, Marcus Dominitan is the harbourmaster of the port of Al’Alaric. A petty man with a big ego and greed to match, he is not above taking bribes to allow unlawful cargo, or to hire thugs to assault those he dislikes.
Now, this ol' ramblin fellow tends to walk his talk a bit too far down the train sometimes.. So I'll be brief in my recantin' of how it was my Tavern "came to bein'" on the multiverse as a weave of it's own spell.. And how I'm even alive to tell the story!
You see it's simple really, trust me.. that's my specialty, keepin it elementary. And you can trust this old Bard.
Anyway, this one night these wizards get a ramblin' on about the temporal exististance of space and time and how it could be manifested in a weave of super dimensional space. whereupon the folded space would give rise to an infinite number of entrances and exits to one or many spaces. Now, seein' how my talkin' sometimes get's locked into the way us folks used to talk back in the ol' west. These wizards didn't know I was a master of the word. and I had heard everything they said. They were also a bit over the wagon, while I was steerin' the show.
So that's how it came to pass, I struck a bargain with the wizards. They come to me in the morning and conjure up their idea into reality and I'd pledge them my life, my existance.. in essence my soul. but in a much nicer sense of the word. So they came by in the morning a half remembering our talks the prior evenin'. And I recanted their words verbatum, and that's how it came to be. The spell was complete that afternoon. My tavern would be the super dimensional cube that would exist in this weave of space and time, folks could come and go as they please, knowin in mind some of the rules and limitations set forth.
A few of 'em as follows.
No feller can be causin a ruckus inside any of my fine establishments, as always rule number one god damnit.
n' second the portal works kinda tricky. When ya outside ya cast the spell and lend your will to luck a bit and regardless the doors to the bar will appear, the windows a luminescent amber.. you can hear the chattee but ya can't see in. And the catch is the door might be locked, in which case you chalk it up to lady luck and go walk off and try again in an hour. Now most times the door pops right open and from the outside you always come in the front door, immediately greeted by myself or one of our many fine patrons of Hooper McFin's Ale & Steakhouse.
Now when ya cast the spell from inside the Tavern, another catch comes up. The back door is mainly a secret for the non-initiated staff and the regulars but for sake of the prose let's assume we all know there's a secret door in the back with a portal there. Now when you go on through this one, you got two scenario's you oughta be aware of. One is ya pop outside relative to the same spot you came out. The other is, you walk back on into this one or another of our many Hooper McFin's Ale & Steakhouse.
so it's a clever quantum railroad I got my tavern and my people's caught on. But, Hey the show's sure as always goin. ohhh' rutin tootin skidoodle -
** And that's it.. that's the only notes I found on the spell, apparently out there somewhere is a Tavern caught on the mighty ebb and flow of the multiverse. Well. at least I can put to rest my torment as to the condition now referred to as "Hooper McFin's Teleportation Paranoia".
Dr. Clarke T. Mulligan - Professional researcher of Time & Space.
Hooper McFin's Ale & Steakhouse