-An NPC merchant selling insects and other creepy crawlies-
"You want horseflies? Giant wasp? Gigmucc has them all on his cart, Gigmucc has a discount just for you..."
Tilde is a charismatic hume who works as a fixer for the hume commune on the dark side of the moon, setting up contracts between the commune and freelancers or mercenary agencies.
Captain Aubrey surveyed the deck of the captured sloop. He was amazed that such well run ship could crewed by such a motley gang of men. He turned to the doctor and wondered, "No man is born into piracy. What were these many fellows before they took up the black flag? Surely they can not all share the same story."
Human Interaction and Relations Robot, female appearance
Behind every great man is an astonished woman. Or the woman who did it for him.
Man, machine, ghost, myth, legend, hero, and villain. No one is really sure who, or even what the Iron Ghost is.
Thirty wenches to pour the beer and feed hungry customers. And do other things as well...
'You can't just run around killing goblins and looting temples, this isn't the old days my boy. To make it today you've got to be part of the guild, and you need a team, and a look, and most importantly you need a manager. Like me.'
Marla (Fight Club) - as the salesperson whose species reproduces by cloning or similar technology.
PC generated by random generator
28- Captain’s Wench
This is an upscale dockside working girl (oxymoron?). She will only "be with" a Captain or Officer. She is prettier, cleaner, and more refined than what one would expect. She is more of an escort, making the captain buy her drinks and food (as well as others). She actually works for the house to promote people to spend.
A wanderer of sorts, Brelan is one of the few Kel’Regar men who have chosen to mix freely with the greater galactic society, having found his calling at last behing the bar.
Being a picky eater as a vampire can be quite troublesome.
Some people have neither good nor bad luck; they instead have a certain whimsy of fate attached to them, placing them at the center of bizarre events whether they wish it or not. Joseph Random is one such individual…
"One for you," He mumbled, pouring some rum onto his boots, "And a few gulps for me, and we’re off."
He took a large gulp from the bottle, put his boots on, and was out the door in a flash.
"Looking for something?, a nice little suprise for the wife?; No. Or perhaps you are looking for that which you cannot buy on the open market.. Yes.. well whatever it is, we no doubt have it."
What if the innkeeper knew what you wanted before you did?
Why did you buy all those Iron Spikes?
"You may have wondered what lead me down this path? It was the simple observation I made while escavating the tomb of an ancient chieftan If only these bones could talk…"
From the personal account of Meridah Onware, in discussion with Professor Siana Tamar.
First, you get the gold. Then you get the power. I could care about the women, I’ve had the men in the palm of my hand since I was 17.
Memoirs of Wealth, excerpt
30 Mostly Maddening Merchants
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman