"Where do I live? A simple question that doesn’t have a simple answer. A palace in a place beyond place, built in a time that wasn’t a time. Can’t solve my riddle? Really, it’s for the best. You wouldn’t like where I live."
There are different sorts of demons in the world. Some are indistiguishable from normal people. Some are a little different, but pass initial scrutiny. And some are much more monstrous.
Every Court needs its servants…
"Whatcha doin? What for? How you gonna do it? I just wanna know. I wonder about a lot of things. Don’t you wonder about stuff? You do? I can help you, if you want me to. That way we can both know."
You say you have no place to go, friend? That you do not even know, if it is worth going anywhere? I hear there is a place where they might help you.
Humans are very emotional beings, and feel things much more strongly than most other creatures. Sometimes, they feel things a little too strongly.
"I don’t like that one. He’s creepy. There’s something not right in the head with him. Course, I don’t much imagine that’s uncommon here, but he goes further than the rest of ‘em. I think he actually *likes* what they do to him."
"There are ideas that are so fundamental that without them, civilization could not exist. The most inviolate, the most important, is justice. If men do not hold rigorously to what is just, then society cannot live. I will not allow those who would ignore something so vital simply because it does not suit them to persist in doing so."
There are some people who just lay down and die if someone hurts them. Some people forgive those who hurt him. And some… well, some decide to punish the people who hurt them. Me? Not even death can stop me from having my revenge. Not my death, not his death. They’ll all pay.
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.