TEXT: A collection of 76 scoundrels, minions, and muses,  
  each with their own plot hooks,  
  ready to instantly drop into your fantasy game
   
  Johnn Four
  
  1
  Credits
  Awesome NPC Designers
  1soni, Aaron Brant, Aaron L. Nuttall, Aaron Richmond, Andrew 
  Wight, Andy Glenn, Bryn Corvus, Chase M., Craig MacCormick, 
  Cris Jesse, Fouindor, Frank, Gwydion Matauc, Hugo Mardolcar, 
  Ieroklis Tsiranidis, Jochen Hartz, Jon Fallon, Justin McGuire, Kirk 
  Brownridge, Lighty, Linda B., Lucas MacKay, Magnema, Matthew 
  L, Michele Fornasari, Mileena Edmond, R.R. Calbick, Ray Schmidt, 
  Ryan McHargue, Sandra K., Sean Holland, Shidub, The Unholy One, 
  Weslin Redthorn, William Coleman.
  Thank you to these fine Roleplaying Tips Readers who tested out the 
  3 Line NPC Generator and conjured up the great NPCs you have in 
  this book.
  Cover Art
  Ivan Bilibin
  Layout and PDF Design
  Craig Judd
  Producer
  Johnn Four, Roleplaying Tips Publishing
  
  2
  A Brief Word From Johnn
  Why do I love NPCs so much and keep building methods, models, 
  and tools for creating them? It all started with “Breeyark!”
  I was GMing a friend through B2: Keep on the Borderlands in 
  elementary school. This was still during my first year of being a GM 
  and figuring out what the heck these RPG games were all about.
  My friend had a party of 6 characters. These would be the famous 
  six (famous in our circles, at least), some of whom would go on to 
  be Monty Haul manifestations of pure gaming glory who would one 
  day start challenging the immortals themselves from the Deities & 
  Demigods tome. (Challenged in best-treasure type order, of course.)
  So here we are in the formative days of these PCs and of my own 
  GMing. And there’s a cave complex teeming with kobolds. Module 
  author Gary Gygax instructs you to make one of the kobolds say 
  “Breeyark!” when the PCs approach. To the PCs, they will think this 
  means, “We surrender.” But it actually means, “Hey Rube!” and is a 
  signal to trigger an ambush.
  So the player, Eric, falls prey to the trick. And it’s glorious. His PCs 
  wipe the floor with the creatures. We rolled lots of dice, swung 
  weapons galore, and kicked major kobold butt. And while Eric was 
  annotating the loot on his character sheets (we had not stumbled 
  upon the idea of a party loot sheet yet, so Eric always tracked who 
  got what sheet by sheet), I was grinning ear to ear.
  
  3
  Because this was the first time I roleplayed a monster. A monster! 
  Man, that was a pivotal moment. It opened up a whole new part of 
  the game and being a GM for me.
  Back at school after the weekend, as we told friends what happened, 
  the story was all about breeyark. And we were serious about it, like 
  it was reality. We issued warnings. We were wise now.
  So that’s part of why NPCs are core to every game I GM, some 35 
  years later. I try to stuff my games with NPCs around every corner. 
  Many die fast. Which is why I like to have tools to help me create 
  them fast. Thus, the 3 Line NPC method and the new generator I 
  created to conjure them up in under two seconds.
  And that’s where these fine 3 Line NPCs came from in this book. 
  Roleplaying Tips Readers gave my new generator a spin, tweaked 
  results as desired, and added a brief backstory to help flesh this 
  book out for me.
  The generator comes free with my Campaign Logger app. Generate 
  unlimited 3 Line NPCs brimming with roleplaying-ness and plot 
  hooks for your campaigns.
  Meantime, a word of advice for you my brave game master. If you 
  ever meet a kobold and he greets you with, “Breeyark”…run!
  Cheers, 
  Johnn Four
  Have more fun at every game!
  
  4
  NPC Checklist
   
   Thorley............................6
   
   Dorfen .............................7
   
   Sister Marga ....................8
   
   Rupert of Norringdale .....9
   
   Mallag ...........................10
   
   Jared Stromasson ..........11
   
   Lornin Fell ....................11
   
   The Numerologist .........12
   
   Felicity Petrichor ..........13
   
   Mez ...............................14
   
   Musber the Blue ............15
   
   Nobo .............................16
   
   Caleb Woolgard .............16
   
   Shargin ..........................17
   
   Kysee .............................18
   
   Mrojar ...........................19
   
   Milly ..............................20
   
   Rasheeq Azad ................20
   
   Ventreb .........................21
   
   Jerenden Icosta .............23
   
   Trevorr of Scant ............24
   
   Pusram the Cloaked ......25
   
   Mallaiah Blackbane .......26
   
   Mul Surme ....................27
   
   Bru ................................27
   
   Fal Ganorharg ...............28
   
   Babtolio Brandagamba ..30
   
   Dr. Selgur Sibbles ..........31
   
   Saleem Halabi ...............32
   
   Enkhmet of the 
  Blacktalons ...................33
   
   Esesha Goldenbough .....35
   
   Limmy Gladeskipper .....36
   
   Gilslyer ..........................37
   
   Bafmus ..........................38
   
   Merse Montpé ...............39
   
   Mileena .........................40
   
   Lucia .............................41
   
   Adwen Gorstin ..............42
   
   Sonya Shiela..................43
   
   Yeremi of Korm .............44
   
   Alacose ‘Al’ Newsman ...45
   
   Skorri Wayfinder ...........46
   
   Sasha Redreaver ............46
  
  5
   
   Pres ...............................48
   
   Carael the Quick ...........49
   
   Pendo ............................49
   
   Lefmich .........................50
   
   Quedre ..........................51
   
   Kamo .............................52
   
   Marlef ...........................53
   
   Ikray ..............................54
   
   Eg ..................................54
   
   Risfar.............................55
   
   Silus ..............................56
   
   Tadeus Zek ....................57
   
   Hezdin...........................57
   
   Weslin ...........................59
   
   Zellal .............................59
   
   Emil...............................60
   
   Svebri Bardison .............61
   
   Sealo Recryam ...............62
   
   Fara Wea .......................62
   
   Auliana Tesfaye .............63
   
   Irribes Sallene ...............64
   
   Hym Yu .........................65
   
   Engthorn Grenorin ........66
   
   Dahl Nicdor ...................67
   
   Lusa ..............................68
   
   Rag Rinlap .....................69
   
   Rostam Tagg .................70
   
   Sherrick Wiggins ...........71
   
   Edgar Thatcher .............71
   
   Anelisa ..........................73
   
   Morrik ...........................74
   
   Ralt Alful .......................74
  
  6
  3 Line NPCs
  Thorley
  Appearance: I am a harmless manservant. I sneeze when in sunlight. 
  I’m wearing fur-lined black leather garb with gown, a girdle, a knee-
  length waistcoat, calf-length pants, long sleeves, high leather boots, 
  a cloth skull cap, and feathered fingerless gloves.
  Portrayal: I espouse the medicinal virtues of garlic and offer cloves 
  to people. I want to unlock the secrets of death to overcome it and 
  live forever. I’ve finally found my way around here - I have a steady 
  income. I need to keep what I have achieved.
  Hook: Right now, I want to help my employer, but I can be lazy 
  and sleepy, sneaking off to take naps when work can wait. Thorley 
  is a human in his forties. He is slim and his graying hair is thin, 
  especially around the crown of his head. He is a manservant in the 
  employ of the eccentric Sapine Zibs, a gnomish apothecary with 
  singularly peculiar tastes, attested by the ‘uniforms’ she makes 
  Thorley and anyone else she employs from time to time.
  When he was a young man, he caught what he still describes as a 
  deadly disease (which was, in fact, a common cold) that was cured 
  by a homemade cureall involving garlic paste. Ever since, he is 
  convinced garlic’s medicinal properties hold the secret to eternal 
  life. Thus, he sought to attach himself to all kinds of alchemists 
  and apothecaries to learn to unlock the secrets of the wondrous 
  clove. The fact that he spends the hours not associated with garlicky 
  
  7
  research napping instead of doing chores made him change quite 
  a few masters. In Sapine he probably found the perfect employer, 
  as the weird gnome puts up with Thorley interfering with her work, 
  and only makes the disfigurations she inflicts on him for napping 
  off his chores semi-permanent.
  Dorfen
  Appearance: I am a cunning poet. I nod often but I’m not listening. 
  I’m wearing hemp dark green clergy style garb with undergarments, 
  a cloth belt, a calf-length jacket, long stockings, elbow-length 
  sleeves, long pointed shoes, a hat, and a small pouch.
  Portrayal: I believe when I die I’ll be judged, something I came to 
  terms with a long time ago, so I better be judged as a hero. A man’s 
  word is his bond, thus be careful when you make promises.
  Hook: Right now, I want to be a hero to impress someone but I’m 
  cowardly and often find myself running from battles, screaming 
  for my sibling’s help. I spend most of my time lost in my own 
  world, dreaming of the day when I become famous for my deeds 
  and actions, forever remembered in poetry and tales. I must first 
  overcome my fears of the world beyond the small part of it I’m most 
  familiar with, but that means venturing out into the unknown, a 
  frightful prospect!
  I both respect and am envious of my younger brother. How is it 
  he became a respected member of a notable group of mercenaries 
  whilst I labor as a mere scribe in the temple, ignored or admonished 
  for my poetic efforts? On more than one occasion he has confronted 
  those who would do me harm and seems to always come out on top, 
  
  8
  for which I am ever thankful. But I do so wish at times the tables 
  were turned.
  My time will come. And when that day comes, I shall be deemed a 
  hero. If a worthy group comes along, I shall offer my services unto 
  them and show them my worth. And when I return home, all shall 
  see the true me that they ignored and overlooked for so long. Or 
  perhaps I shall not return at all. Perhaps I shall die a hero’s death in 
  some faraway land and those I’m with will recount the heroic efforts 
  I put forth on their behalf.
  Sister Marga
  Anchorite of Vengeance
  Appearance: I am a wise nun of the Laughing Goddess. I spit huge 
  wads with gusto. I’m wearing a threadbare, dark yellow habit, a metal 
  ring belt, a waist-length cloak, puffy sleeves, sandals, and a coif.
  Portrayal: I’m frustrated that my family doesn’t realize their child 
  is a fake duplicate of me. And I believe gold pales to the brilliance of 
  the life draining from their eyes. My home town is my least favorite 
  place in the world.
  Hook: Right now, I want to get healing for my parent, but I hide 
  with shame the extensive burn scars on my arms. Sister Marga is 
  an Anchorite of the Laughing Goddess, a cleric mystically bound 
  never to leave the temple of her Lady. She is the life of the temple, 
  greeting worshippers and revelers with a hearty laugh and a slap 
  on the back, as is befitting a cleric of her station, and an excellent 
  source of information on divine matters and street gossip.
  Inside, however, Marga is cold and calculating. She was bound as an 
  anchorite against her will, by a Trickster of the Laughing Goddess, 
  
  9
  who then used its illusory powers to replace Marga in her own home. 
  Not the religious sorts, her family would never set foot in the temple, 
  and so would never discover the ruse. Rather than despair, Marga 
  has used the opportunity to learn what she can of divine magic to 
  exact her revenge, hoping the Trickster’s death will break her own 
  bond and let her leave this miserable town.
  A month ago, drawing on the power of the temple she serves, Marga 
  enacted a ritual to kill the Trickster. It backfired, and although the 
  Trickster was deeply wounded, it also plunged Marga’s father into a 
  coma, and left her with hideous burns on both her arms. She is now 
  rushing to fix her errors and complete the ritual before the Trickster 
  figures out who cursed it and comes for her or her helpless father.
  Rupert of Norringdale
  Hermon’s Brother
  Appearance: I am a hard-hearted blacksmith. I have uncanny luck. 
  I’m wearing beaded green-red middle class dinner clothes with 
  low-necked tunic, heavy leather belt, long stockings, long sleeves, 
  elegant boots, a leather skull cap, and a medicine bag necklace.
  Portrayal: If I had a coin, I’d put it in my mouth and pray for lockjaw. 
  And I believe, deep down, all people are animals. I am tasked with 
  the resurrection of a dead entity.
  Hook: I want to be at the top of the pecking order, but right now I 
  follow my sibling around the world ruining things they have fixed. 
  Rupert has lived his whole life in the shadow of his famous younger 
  brother — Hermon, Slayer of Yazzaldgak and Hero of Norringdale. 
  Despite being the best blacksmith for many miles, the whole world 
  only knows Rupert as ‘Hermon’s Brother’, a fact that makes him 
  
  10
  crazy. Even though his borrowed fame makes him money hand over 
  fist - and Rupert loves money as much as he hates his brother - he 
  has always wanted to see his brother fail and be exposed as the 
  fraud he is.
  For Yazzaldgak is not dead. Rupert knows, since the great demon told 
  him herself. And he has been charged to bring her out of her slumber. 
  All he needs to do is undo six of the good deeds for which his brother 
  is known, and the bonds holding Yazzaldgak will be broken. On the 
  one hand, he will certainly embarrass and probably kill Hermon the 
  ‘Perfect.’ On the other hand, Yazzaldgak has promised him power 
  and riches beyond his imagining when she conquers Norringdale. 
  Hey, a win-win in his books!
  Mallag
  Appearance: I am a scared negotiator. I have a very hairy neck. I’m 
  wearing lose white beggar’s garb with high-collared shirt, a girdle, 
  a waist-length jacket, pants, bracers, monsterskin boots, a coif, and 
  leather gauntlets.
  Portrayal: I am cautious, always investigating an area before 
  entering it. And I would never violate the trust of someone who just 
  needed a friendly ear. I idolize a hero of the old tales and measure 
  my deeds against that person’s.
  Hook: Right now, I want a place to hide but I can’t resist a pretty 
  face. Mallag is a half-troll who dreamt of being as skilled a diplomat 
  as Loran Silvertongue and went to great lengths to overcome the 
  troll slowness, tongue-tied-ness and stereotypes. On his second 
  contract he was framed, accused of eavesdropping and knowing too 
  much (when, in fact, he knows nothing and can barely believe such 
  
  11
  traitorous persons exist). He’s fallen in love with a petite wizardess 
  and became her bodyguard instead of lying low like he should.
  Jared Stromasson
  Appearance: I am a chummy stone mason. I seem very greasy. I’m 
  wearing tight dark yellow rural clothing, a beaded belt, an ankle-
  length jacket with puffy sleeves, knee-length trousers, high-heeled 
  boots, a small hat with a feather, and a codpiece.
  Portrayal: I espouse the medicinal virtues of garlic and offer cloves 
  to people. And I don’t believe in conforming to expectations. I’ve 
  always been a little odd.
  Hook: Right now, I want my old job back but everything is always my 
  fault! Jared Stromasson was a friendly, albeit eccentric, construction 
  worker who built every house in town. Unfortunately, everything 
  seemed to be blamed on him a few years back when a new boss took 
  over the company he worked for. He loves garlic, and knows every 
  way to prepare it (but not how to preserve a partial clove because 
  he’s never had to). It was actually his love of garlic that got him 
  fired - his new boss was secretly a vampire. Now he just wants his 
  job back. He knows most of the secret passages through town, since 
  he built a number of them and had to build around others, but won’t 
  talk about them without a good reason.
  Lornin Fell
  Appearance: I am a wandering storyteller and jongleur. I wear 
  travel-stained jester’s motley and garish makeup that serves to 
  disguise my true features.
  
  12
  Portrayal: I believe people who have violated the law deserve 
  punishment, a moral I work into all my public performances.
  Hook: By day a fool, by night a force for justice, where his skill at 
  juggling transforms into a deadly skill with knives as the vigilante 
  known as the Judge of Blades. The PC’s might be allies in going after 
  a target too well protected to reach alone or might be the target 
  themselves for past indiscretions. Lornin Fell was six when a thief 
  cut down both of his parents in a robbery gone wrong. Taken in by a 
  traveling circus troupe called The Bladed Ring, young Lornin learned 
  how to read people, how to fool people, and after an intense period 
  of knife training, how to kill people. His circus days behind him, 
  Lornin dedicates his days to teaching the lesson that lawlessness 
  never pays and his nights to a more direct application of that same 
  lesson.
  The Numerologist
  Appearance: I am a worried numerologist. I am stooped and 
  move slowly due to a bad back. I’m wearing torn and bloody white 
  noble’s garb with high-collared tunic, a coin and beaded belt with 
  fringes, an ankle-length jacket, knee-length trousers, short sleeves, 
  monsterskin shoes, a hat, and a cane.
  Portrayal: What I do is art. I take care in my craft and love to share 
  it with others. And I need to get as much enjoyment out of mortal 
  life as I can. It is my duty to protect the city and its citizens.
  Hook: Right now, I want a safe place to be but I look down on anyone 
  who was not properly trained in the magic they wield. Stolen from 
  birth and raised a slave, the Numerologist has risen quite high in 
  the court as one of the King’s personal advisers. While at a local 
  
  13
  bordello, the Numerologist divined that disaster is about to strike 
  in the royal court and that the King’s life is in danger. Although he 
  tried to get to the court as fast as he possibly could, he stumbled 
  upon a gathering of rebels plotting to overthrow the King. His guards 
  dead, it took all of the power at his disposal to barely escape with 
  his life. Hopefully he can manage to get to the King’s ear in time to 
  save the realm.
  Felicity Petrichor
  Appearance: I am a sassy scrivener. I smell really good - vetiver and 
  cinnamon. I’m wearing a velvet red corset with a black tulle train, a 
  high-waisted bolero jacket, knee-high monsterskin boots, a cocked 
  hat, and filigree tattoos in a long-dead language that flow along the 
  delicate curves of my slender limbs.
  Portrayal: I’m pretty sure my last client - the now-dead head of a 
  powerful merchant guild - knows I’ve stole some of the guild secrets 
  and his servants are after me. I believe when the past and present 
  collide then I’ll deal with it. I will seal these secrets away to protect 
  myself and to secure my escape from town.
  Hook: Right now, I want enough money to buy food and enough 
  money to get out of town, but my last written pamphlet satirized the 
  guild leader and now the whole guild wants my head. It was a mistake 
  I will likely repeat as I have a hard-time keeping my mouth shut and 
  love a witty, vicious rejoinder. Felicity Petrichor was apprenticed to 
  the Perfumer’s Guild when she was young. Trained to hand-label 
  ingredient bottles and keep track of the guild’s vast stores of scents, 
  oils and essences she grew into a lovely young woman. She learned 
  the secrets of the guild’s most exclusive scents and those favoured 
  by the town elite. She has an ear for gossip and the witty banter 
  
  14
  exchanged by the highly literate courtiers who frequent the shop. 
  She’s become a fashionable young woman known for her excellent 
  (and expensive) tastes in clothing. She now illustrates the guild’s 
  catalogue of ingredients with exotic descriptions and beautiful 
  illustrations. Her tattoos came from her lover - a calligrapher’s 
  apprentice who was covering her body with an ancient love poem 
  in a dead language. The guild lord had fallen in love with her and 
  when she spurned him, he had the calligrapher killed. She had her 
  revenge upon him by adding poison to his favourite cologne. She 
  then stole the secret blends and ingredient lists of the guild’s top 
  members. The highly competitive world of perfumers would pay 
  handsomely to get this list. Some of the ingredients used are highly 
  unethical and would cause a scandal if discovered. She now wants to 
  leave the city but needs money to escape. Despite her sharp tongue 
  and brazen style, she’s heartbroken by the loss of her lover.
  Mez
  Appearance: I am a plain-thinking wood seller. I am always rumpled 
  and untucked. I’m wearing threadbare black-green woolen shirt, 
  heavy leather belt, brown doeskin breeches, rolled-up sleeves, heavy 
  steel toe capped boots, and a pipe.
  Portrayal: I show strong feelings of empathy. And I shall protect us 
  all, or die sealing it away. A powerful person killed someone I love. 
  Some day soon, I’ll have my revenge.
  Hook: Right now, I want to beat an enemy but I hold onto my 
  trinket, the only thing that I remember in my past. Three years ago 
  a wealthy noble’s son was riding through the village where Mez lived 
  and worked. Upon seeing Mez’s intended bride he was overcome 
  with lust and ordered his guards to spirit her to his camp. During 
  
  15
  the night the young lass set upon the young noble and attacked him, 
  he killed her in a rage and left her naked body in the clearing after 
  they left. Mez has sworn blood vengeance upon him and his family. 
  He wears the engagement ring on a leather thong around his neck.
  Musber the Blue
  Appearance: I am a sarcastic cattle rustler. I keep a small girls doll 
  (for personal reasons). I’m wearing well fitted lower class clothes 
  with a tunic, a leather belt, an ankle-length jacket, leather pants 
  and boots.
  Portrayal: I have the uneasy feeling my future is to die horribly or 
  heroically, and I accept that as reality. Relationships matter to me 
  more than ideals or material goods. I believe that social conventions 
  are meant to be broken and work hard to not fit in any ones mold.
  Hook: Right now, I need money for food and shelter but I can’t find 
  honest work so I am conflicted about cattle rustling. Once Vaxti was 
  a sheriff working for a noble. He was happily married with a child, 
  but a sickness took first his wife and then his baby girl. The loss hit 
  him hard and he turned to all the old vices to drown his sorrows. 
  This led to him losing his job. With violence being his only real 
  marketable skill, Vaxti found himself working on the wrong side of 
  the law - and successfully while drunk - but when he sobers up he is 
  unable to commit even small crimes to pay for meager meals.
  Though 5 years has passed the pain is still deep for him and he 
  carries a small doll that was once his daughter’s as a reminder of 
  his lost family. Because of his educated past and his criminal life 
  he is a bit of a walking confliction of themes. He is big and strong 
  and works as a criminal, but cares about honor and his word. He is a 
  
  16
  thinker, loves to read and learn about places, and philosophizes, but 
  is surrounded by people that care only about easy money.
  Nobo
  Appearance: I am a foolhardy beggar. I use profanity. I’m wearing 
  richly embroidered dark yellow craftsman’s garb that has been torn 
  in many places, an intricate leather belt that holds many tools, long 
  robes, knee-length trousers, and sandals.
  Portrayal: My Master taught me the value of secrets, I keep them 
  very well and have a few of my own. And I believe there is always an 
  answer! My master, who taught me everything I know - I must kill 
  him and take his place.
  Hook: Right now, I want to be a hero to save someone but instinct 
  takes over at the moment of a kill, and I cannot help but rip the flesh 
  from human and monsters alike to sate my hunger. I was tossed into 
  the streets by an impoverished nobleman. My master found me and 
  soon I will be free. One day an adventurer gave me a gold coin, I will 
  save others. But I need to be master first. Then the taste of blood will 
  not be so sweet. I was poor, he gave me a home, now he will sleep in 
  the ground. The food I receive - the first time I killed the food was 
  so wonderful. Every kill reminds me of a full stomach. Perhaps if I 
  am full I can save someone? Then I must kill. Training was hard, the 
  streets where hard, but now I am hard enough to live.
  Caleb Woolgard
  Appearance: I am a dirt-covered shepherd who constantly reeks 
  of garlic. I wear plain garb, much mended and stitched together 
  
  17
  with an unskilled hand. Despite my unkempt appearance, I sport a 
  gleaming wedding ring.
  Portrayal: I like dead things better than living things, keeping to 
  myself whenever possible and am distrustful of outsiders. I trust 
  only my wife, Miranda, long dead in a vampire attack and whose 
  skull I rescued from the flames of her pyre after I ended her torment. 
  Sometimes she whispers to me in the darkness, hints on how to 
  bring her back to me. Love is the only thing worth living for, after all.
  Hook: Right now, I want to find a way to bringing my wife back from 
  beyond the grave, and soon, her skull will tell me the final clue on 
  just how to do it.
  Caleb Woolgard married Miranda Stillwater and lived a life of 
  happiness, tending their herd of sheep on the outskirts of the 
  village. They found even greater joy when Miranda found herself 
  with child. That all ended when Miranda fell ill under a strange 
  bleeding sickness and died suddenly, leaving Caleb alone. When 
  Miranda returned, three nights after Caleb had buried her in the 
  back forty, he knew a vampire had claimed his bride as a victim and 
  cut his wife down with the silver candlestick holder that had been a 
  wedding present. Caleb burned her body and that of his unborn son, 
  but couldn’t bring himself to see her gone completely, plucking her 
  skull from the flames and hiding it in their former home. He spread 
  the tale of his wife’s passing in childbirth and the stillborn child, 
  shaped two graves, and retreated from the world.
  Shargin
  Appearance: I am a tall red-haired stable boy, rangy and thin. A scar 
  cuts across my right eye, a reminder to never stand behind a startled 
  
  18
  horse. I wear simple peasant garb with the mark of the Stable upon 
  its front.
  Portrayal: I play the dutiful servant, quick to respond to any request 
  and full of awe and wonder at the strange ways of newcomers, all to 
  find out as much as I can about them. You never know when such 
  information might be useful.
  Hook: A spy for the thieves guild, I am perfectly placed to report all 
  of the travellers coming and going through the West Gate. People’s 
  mouths wag when around simple servants and I pick up more than 
  you’d expect. When Shargin’s father returned from war after three 
  years he found his wife with a two-year old child. Casting both her 
  and the child from his home, the pair were forced to make a living 
  any way they could after the child’s true father spurned them as well. 
  Desperate and with nowhere else to turn, Shargin’s mother made 
  a deal with the local lord of thieves for a place for her and her boy, 
  becoming spies in exchange for room and board.
  Kysee
  Appearance: I am a blissful broom maker. I am never without my 
  pet rat. I’m wearing dirty and smelly white rural clothing with shirt, 
  a metal ring belt, a waist-length cloak, calf-length pants, elbow-
  length sleeves, bloody bandages wrapped around my feet, brimmed 
  hat, and a wedding ring.
  Portrayal: I avoid making eye contact. And I know anything that 
  isn’t mine soon will be. Two forces are telling me to go to a direction 
  opposite of each other.
  Hook: Right now, I want a place to hide but I have trouble keeping 
  my true feelings hidden. My sharp tongue lands me in trouble. My 
  
  19
  wife and I found a strange book. She thought we would copy some 
  of the glyphs out of it and see if someone could tell us if the book 
  had any worth. But something went wrong. There was fire, smoke, 
  a stomach turning smell. We passed out. When I came to, a rat was 
  sitting on my chest and my wife was gone. I need magic for some 
  reason but I don’t know why. I am also afraid and want to hide, but 
  I don’t know why. Paranoid.
  Mrojar
  Appearance: I am a threatened philosopher. I always dress in 
  one-color outfits. I’m wearing ripped black clergy style garb with 
  garnache, a leather belt, a knee-length jacket, knee-length trousers, 
  cuffed sleeves, bare feet, brimmed hat, and an earring.
  Portrayal: You don’t like killing. And I believe some people are 
  better off dead. A man’s word is his bond, thus be careful when you 
  make promises.
  Hook: Right now, I want to be healthy again but an innocent person 
  is in prison. I am Mrojar, disgraced cleric. I was with a party that 
  found a great prize. We took it to the Crown. But one of the King’s 
  clerks took the item and said he would check with the Royal wizard. 
  He never returned. We complained and our fighter raged that he 
  would kill the clerk. The clerk was found dead. Our treasure missing 
  and our fighter was arrested. I have promised to clear his name but 
  now I have come down with some strange and unidentified illness 
  that weakens me more every day.
  
  20
  Milly
  Appearance: I am a quiet seller. I talk slowly and deliberately. I’m 
  wearing cambric tan and grey lower class clothes with collared shirt, 
  a leather belt with buckle, a waist-length cloak, calf-length pants, 
  elbow-length sleeves, curly toe shoes, a mask, and a jewelled brooch 
  of a town I once lived in.
  Portrayal: Despite my birth, I do not place myself above other folk. 
  We all have the same blood. When people follow orders blindly they 
  embrace a kind of tyranny. I have an iron device meant to slay my 
  hated monsters.
  Hook: Right now, I want my revenge, but I’m a firm believer in being 
  a simple, helping in these dangerous times. The elderly Milly used to 
  be the doyenne healer for her growing town. But she reached too far 
  in her small ambitions, and in the course of establishing trade with a 
  local goblin tribe she inadvertently attracted the attention of larger, 
  marauding monsters. Her village was destroyed, and the remnants 
  fled to the walled City of First Watch to the south. But Milly is not 
  done with those monsters yet. She disguised herself as an itinerant 
  merchant, and she’s tracking them. She will have her revenge, and 
  at her age it’ll probably be the last thing she does.
  Rasheeq Azad
  Appearance: I am a compassionate pawn merchant. I have a visible 
  birthmark. I’m wearing lose white rural clothing with shirt, a metal 
  ring belt, a calf-length waistcoat, pants, puffy sleeves, high-heeled 
  shoes, turban, and a beaded chain.
  
  21
  Portrayal: I look into the lives of others, like secretly looking 
  through a window. I tend to imagine myself as my target, and copy 
  their characteristics. And I always try to help those in need, no 
  matter what the personal cost. I saved the life of an important, but 
  loathed, noble.
  Hook: Right now, I want to find my missing friend but I have trouble 
  trusting in my allies. Rasheeq Azad is a pawn broker in a major 
  city. He goes by the nickname Sir Tankard due to the tankard-
  shaped birthmark prominently visible on his right cheek. He is 
  known to have a compassionate nature and is always ready to lend 
  a hand to someone who is down on their luck. That compassion 
  extends to animals as well and his shop is always ready to welcome 
  another stray cat or a lost dog. About a month ago he overheard a 
  couple of customers discussing ways to ‘remove’ a certain senator 
  while browsing in his shop. Even though this particular senator is 
  incompetent and generally despised throughout the city he felt 
  compelled to warn him. Shortly thereafter he lost contact with one 
  of his good friends and is worried that he was kidnapped, or worse, in 
  retaliation for warning the senator. He does not have the resources 
  to search for his friend himself and is wary now of everybody as he 
  does not know who he can trust. If someone is able to gain his trust 
  he would be willing to pay to have the disappearance investigated 
  and his friend found.
  Ventreb
  Appearance: I’m a fuming leather armorer with notoriously bad 
  luck. I’m wearing dark yellow military dress heavily stained by 
  tanning dye and consisting of a high-collared tunic, sash, waistcoat, 
  
  22
  pants, arm bands, high-heeled boots, turban, and a sash of braided 
  leather rope with filigreed silver endcaps.
  Portrayal: I have an allergy to silver and copper and thus require all 
  transactions be done in gold. I believe respect is due to me because 
  of my position as an armorer for an important noble’s army. But all 
  people, regardless of station, deserve to be treated with dignity. Even 
  though I have not found my fortune yet, it’s just a matter of time.
  Hook: Right now, I want to get healing for my parent but I remember 
  every insult I’ve received and nurse a silent resentment toward 
  anyone who’s ever wronged me. I spend my time working for a 
  noble’s troops, providing the highest quality leather armor that is 
  also suitable for ceremonial occasions due to intricate pyrographic 
  decoration. My abilities have been requisitioned by nobles far and 
  wide on numerous occasions. Although I have been paid well for 
  my work, most of my gold has gone to the care and treatment of my 
  mother, who has been suffering from a reputedly incurable affliction 
  for years.
  I long for the freedom afforded to a free merchant, able to provide 
  my services at whatever price I deem worthy and to whomever I so 
  choose. Perhaps then I will find the success and good fortune that 
  will bring the recognition I deserve.
  Recently, I was the victim of an elaborate ruse by a man claiming to 
  be a healer. He supposedly heard of my mother’s ailment and came 
  to help. This charlatan drained my gold and before I discovered the 
  truth he was long gone. I am thirsting for vengeance, how dare he 
  take advantage of my situation! I will pay well those seeking to lend 
  aid to my cause, but not before I fully understand their motivations 
  and who they are. I will not be fooled again.
  
  23
  If those I pay succeed in returning that which was stolen from me, 
  there are others who have disrespected my family. Perhaps they 
  warrant attention as well. Everyone deserves to be treated with 
  fairness, even if that means teaching them a lesson.
  Jerenden Icosta
  Appearance: I am a cartographer who longs to explore the exotic 
  locales I describe in my skillfully crafted maps. My wardrobe is a 
  chaotic mix of styles gleaned from the cultures whose homelands 
  I’m mapping at the moment.
  Portrayal: A natural mimic, I adopt regional dialects and styles 
  of dress whenever I come across them, unmindful of any offense I 
  might cause in so doing or how odd I might look.
  Hook: A hidden treasure map has come into my possession and I 
  wish to charter an expedition to follow its clues to untold riches 
  and enough wealth to finally fulfill my dreams of worldwide travel. 
  Jerenden Icosta has always loved maps and forgotten lore. Too 
  sickly to take up the family trade as a merchant captain, Jerenden 
  turned instead to books about the far off places his relatives visited, 
  becoming a skilled cartographer and geographical sage along the 
  way. A bulk purchase of books and writings abandoned in a local 
  inn yielded a hidden surprise — a faded parchment that seemed to 
  show the resting site of the fabled Cavern of Golden Dreams. Now 
  Jerenden faces a dilemma — reveal the site to his family and share 
  the trove many ways or seek out a small band of outsiders and grab 
  half a fortune.
  
  24
  Trevorr of Scant
  Appearance: I am a vehement bailiff. I have no teeth and constantly 
  lick my gums while talking. I’m wearing striped black-blue clergy 
  style garb with collared shirt, a leather belt, a waist-length jacket, 
  long stockings, puffy sleeves, sandals, a leather skull cap, and a leaky 
  waterskin.
  Portrayal: I am always correcting others as they speak. And I believe 
  with wealth comes power and happiness. Two forces are telling me 
  to go to a direction opposite of each other.
  Hook: Right now, I want a place to hide but some people want to 
  kill me to make sure I never tell a secret they’d rather have untold. 
  Trevorr of Scant lost his wife and his teeth many years ago in a brawl 
  with a brawny blacksmith. Behind his back, people called him Treffer 
  after that. But as a bailiff and tax collector no one said it to his face. 
  But he knew and although he looks a kindly monk, when he opens 
  his mouth he cannot help upsetting everyone. Most Scantish folk 
  don’t read or write or even count, so Trevorr can often show off his 
  superiority.
  Bitter and alone, the bailiff has clung tenaciously to his job for 
  the last decade and gradually grown to be a man of substance. But 
  unbeknownst to many, Trevorr’s boss, Sheriff Hoggard, uses him as 
  a go-between to feed information to thieves. Wealdok’s Gang has 
  bought the information on certain wealthy homes and protections 
  for the last five years.
  It was a profitable relationship until last weekend. Then the wealthy 
  merchant, Ghenta Valt, suddenly returned with his family after an 
  embarrassing hunting accident. The gang were interrupted and only 
  
  25
  two managed to escape with their lives, the rest were captured or 
  killed.
  Trevorr was one of the first to hear about it, his horror at the 
  misfortune and knowledge that Wealdok was due for interrogation 
  shot him straight out of town. Now the ex-bailiff is riding towards 
  the Anvilsen dwarven mine, weighed down by stolen gold. However 
  he knows that the authorities and two thieves are after him for that 
  wealth and his boss’s name.
  Pusram the Cloaked
  Appearance: I am a grumpy firewood seller. I have a very hairy neck. 
  I’m wearing a dark red tunic, a cloth belt, a calf-length cloak, pants, 
  long sleeves, buckled boots, and a small hat.
  Portrayal: I do all kinds of basic chores and errands for those around 
  me out of habit. And I believe people who have violated the law 
  deserve punishment, no matter the reason for the crime. I know that 
  those people want their money, but they just don’t understand the 
  difficulties with getting things done on time.
  Hook: Right now, I want to pay back a money lender but I remember 
  every insult I’ve received and nurse a silent resentment toward 
  anyone who’s ever wronged me. Pusram went to war at a young age. 
  He was young, headstrong, and rude. He fell in love with a woman 
  abroad, and she softened his edges. But, in the end, she did not 
  survive the raids. He has been bitter and alone ever since. He retains 
  the strong sense of justice he cultivated during the war, where every 
  decision was life or death. The loss of his love has left his heart 
  shielded, but frail underneath his tough exterior. He does his best 
  to survive, but his resentment against the ones who killed his lover 
  
  26
  burns in a slow fire and rises in frustration and anger to anyone who 
  wrongs him.
  Mallaiah Blackbane
  Appearance: I am a moody noble’s guard. I have no teeth and 
  constantly lick my gums while talking. I’m wearing bloody red-blue 
  middle class dinner clothes with high-collared shirt, a sash, a waist-
  length jacket, calf-length pants, cuffed sleeves, high ankle boots, a 
  mask, and a thumb ring.
  Portrayal: I take great care over my presentation — metal apparel 
  polished until it gleams, clothes washed and pressed daily, body 
  well-groomed. And I think everyone has their place. Those higher in 
  the hierarchy must be obeyed. Contracts must be honoured. I believe 
  everything has its rightful place, and I want to chart it. I owe my life 
  to the priest who took me in when my parents died.
  Hook: Right now, I want to hide but I made a terrible mistake in 
  battle that cost many lives and I would do anything to keep that 
  mistake secret. Mallaiah Blackbane had succumbed to the bribery 
  offered by a general of a rival nation. He let some obviously bad 
  intentioned individuals into his master’s mansion. They kidnapped 
  the noble’s daughter and used that to force the city’s defenses to fail. 
  The noble provided no help during the siege and the city was lost 
  to the rival nation. Now everyone lives under martial law with few 
  liberties. He chose not to collect his reward for fear for his life. His 
  care for presentation and looks were his downfall for he had been 
  offered clothes and armor of the finest quality.
  
  27
  Mul Surme
  Appearance: I am an impotent pilgrim. I use the same hand gestures 
  in conversation as they do when casting spells. I’m wearing hemp 
  green-red party dress with high-collared tunic, an intricate leather 
  belt, a waist-length cloak, knee-length trousers, cuffed sleeves, 
  sandals, a mask, and a beaded chain.
  Portrayal: I believe the world is in need of new ideas and bold 
  action. If an artifact has been entrusted to me, I will protect it at all 
  costs, even my life.
  Hook: Right now, I want a safe place to be but I cannot manage 
  money to save my life. Mul has a gambling problem. He thinks his 
  spells and magic assure him victory in all his games, but his over-
  zealousness and inability to hold a poker face mean he loses more 
  often than not. He tends to bet high - too high. One unfortunate 
  night, this NPC bet several pieces of his manhood in a game of 
  knucklebones, and lost. Since then, he has tried to clean himself 
  up, have goals in life, and spread his philosophical ideals of inner 
  strength in pamphlets he passes out on the streets of the towns he 
  visits. However, relapses keep his life rocky at best, and he is unable 
  to settle down for long before falling into bad habits.
  Bru
  Appearance: I am an obsessive doctor. I have trouble hearing. 
  I’m wearing satin red-blue military dress with low-necked tunic, a 
  leather girdle, a knee-length jacket, long stockings, short sleeves, 
  elegant equestrian boots, a hood, and a leather apron.
  
  28
  Portrayal: I consider magical healers and healing to be cheating 
  and unaccountable. I see my idol has become wealthy and powerful 
  and I aspire to be so as well.
  Hook: Right now, I want to make my family healthy again but I use 
  unproven treatments on my patients without their knowledge. While 
  making my rounds in the dungeons, I have run into a man in an iron 
  mask who doesn’t appear on any records. I will find out his secret, 
  and bust him out if he is innocent.
  Born into an influential family, Bru serves as the personal physician 
  to the local lord. Though an accomplished healer in his own right 
  he distrusts magical healers and sees all magic as unnatural and 
  dangerous. Ever curious he does however seek to push the limits 
  of modern medical practice and has been known to use unproven 
  methods on his patients, often without their prior knowledge 
  or consent. The fact that he trained under one of the most well-
  known and influential physicians of the realm further motivates his 
  experimental practice as he is personally motivated by a desire to 
  attain equal or greater wealth and fame for himself and his family. To 
  that end he has taken to walking the halls of the Lord’s dungeon and 
  experimenting on its occupants. During these exploratory sessions 
  he has discovered a strange prisoner in an iron mask who does not 
  appear on any of the dungeon’s records. His curiosity piqued, he has 
  become almost obsessed with uncovering this person’s past.
  Fal Ganorharg
  Appearance: I am a tinsmith. I wear a ring on every toe. I’m wearing 
  wool tan and grey rural clothing with collared shirt, a cloth belt, a 
  knee-length cloak, long stockings, bracers, sandals, a shaved head, 
  and a cloth apron.
  
  29
  Portrayal: A life of isolation was not something I wanted, I must 
  stay close to others. And I must do as the city rulers command to 
  keep order. I am in love with a hated enemy.
  Hook: Right now, I’m so tired and I just want to get some sleep. 
  I guess people’s feelings, character, or birth date and am usually 
  wrong. This bald-headed, tattooed tinsmith specializes in designer 
  tin cups. He has overcome his past life of crime to dedicate himself 
  to his craft. He remains pining over an old love — the woman who 
  led the crime ring that consumed his early years and led him down 
  a dark road. He spends much of his time lying awake, thinking. His 
  lack of sleep results in his weak memory and lackluster efforts to 
  socialize. When he tries to be friendly with customers, his weak smile 
  and sagging eyes cut conversations short. However, his beautiful 
  cups are proudly used by local taverns as a testament to his skill.
  Gaha
  Appearance: I am an anarchist priest. I spit huge wads with gusto. 
  I’m wearing crude dark yellow military dress with gown, a leather 
  girdle, a waist-length jacket, calf-length pants, short sleeves, high-
  heeled boots, turban, and a flavored chewing stick.
  Portrayal: I am fascinated by birth and childhood, having never 
  experienced it myself. And I think a labor of love is a purpose and 
  meaning. Someone I cherished was left in the fey realms, and I want 
  to get them back.
  Hook: Right now, I want to get healing for my child but I have deep 
  anger and hold long grudges towards those who harm animals 
  or animals from the species that raised me. Gaha was raised in a 
  religious household. When her parents and brother were pulled into 
  the fey realm by a mysterious spirit, she dedicated her life to the 
  
  30
  priesthood to find a way to bring them back. She keeps her long, 
  curly hair wrapped up in a paradoxically tall turban and is always 
  seen chewing a long piece of incense lit at the end. Her methods are 
  unorthodox and lead toward anarchy. She offers help and healing 
  for women and children in her shelters, letting them live free from 
  harm. She is suspicious of men who threaten the wellbeing of 
  vulnerable women.
  Babtolio Brandagamba
  Appearance: I am a comfortable pack and pouch maker. I have 
  trouble hearing - an earful of thick hair will do that to a halfling. I’m 
  wearing a flamboyant cloak of my own design, with a neat waistcoat 
  of dark golden thread. A bandoleer crosses my chest, holding my 
  needles and threads. A simple cap (concealing a hidden pocket) sits 
  atop my head.
  Portrayal: I am constantly changing accents to throw pursuers off 
  my trail. A group of unreasonable individuals are hunting me all over 
  the land, which makes me distrustful of almost everybody.
  Hook: Right now, I want a safe place to be forgotten and unseen, 
  but my love of gold through commerce keeps me from anonymity. I 
  just can’t help myself! ‘Good morrow friend! Babtolio Brandagamba, 
  at your service! You look like a fellow with a need for deep pockets 
  in that cloak of yours! Me? As a lad, I had a...contented living in a 
  wealthy halfling family – one of the famous Brandagamba brothers 
  don’t you know! I have always had a love of trinkets and oddments, 
  which grew into my business – Babtolio’s Brilliant Bagorium! – so 
  that I always had a place to keep my treasures. As well as crafting fine 
  bags and items of clothing, my truly unique service caters to those 
  of more...discreet methods. Hidden pockets, magically sealed belt 
  
  31
  pouches, concealed weapon holsters – that sort of thing. Business 
  on both fronts was good, great in fact. But then, some time ago now, 
  a group of most unsavory fellows came calling for my skills with 
  needle and thread. *Sighs* There may have been a mix-up with their 
  bag and a certain item of great value hidden inside. Needless to say, 
  the item wasn’t in there when I returned the bag to them, and they 
  weren’t pleased. A quick departure from my home town, and a few 
  others since besides, and here I am, setting up shop again. So...what 
  can I do for you?’
  Dr. Selgur Sibbles
  Appearance: I am a cowardly rope maker. I sneeze when in bright 
  sunlight. I am clothed mostly in tangled ropes of all lengths and 
  thicknesses, some around my arms, some around my legs. A thick 
  hangman’s noose hangs around my neck. A thin, artfully twined 
  rope acts as a headband for my long white hair. I wear odd boots 
  (one black, one brown).
  Portrayal: I believe magical healing is an unfair advantage over 
  those who study the art of medicine their whole lives, like myself. I 
  have flashes of memories that don’t belong to me, complete with a 
  ghostly voice of guidance. I use them to inform my actions, wherever 
  that takes me. And I believe what comes over the next hill is worth 
  seeing, no matter how terrifying.
  Hook: I aspire to have a medical term named after me so my name 
  will live on in perpetuity. I believe the ropes will guide me there. A 
  man of high knowledge and education, Dr. Selgur Sibbles gradually 
  reached the top of the medical profession, becoming an esteemed 
  doctor. However, in his dream to have a new technique named after 
  himself, he performed a questionable surgery on a rich noble, lauding 
  
  32
  him only with a long walk to the gallows. However, standing there 
  on the trapdoor with the noose about his neck, midday sun bearing 
  down on him, his life changed forever. He was spared. By whom and 
  for what purpose, is not clear to him. All Selgur remembers is a sharp 
  tugging sensation on his neck, a bright flash of purple light, and the 
  taste of cinnamon jelly on his teeth. Next thing he knew he was a 
  mile out of town, naked but for his noose, in the pitch black of night.
  He made his way back to the town, meaning to get home. But as 
  he entered the city, Selgur began to hear dark and queer whispers 
  talking of the events at the midday hanging. Knowing his presence 
  would lead to trouble when discovered, he grabbed what he could 
  from his home and took off. The first vision he received showed him 
  how to avoid the guards and snooping townsfolk. After the vision, he 
  found he had a new rope tied around his left ankle. So he followed...
  and he has been ever since. ‘Follow them...follow the ropes...’
  Saleem Halabi
  Appearance: I am a sadistic importer. I have sapphire blue eyes. 
  I’m wearing impeccable dark green noble’s garb with gown, a cloth 
  belt, an ankle-length jacket, pants, short sleeves, high ankle shoes, 
  a cloth skull cap, and a horn flask.
  Portrayal: I connect everything that happens to me to a grand 
  cosmic plan. And I believe we are all in this together, for better or 
  for worse. I will get revenge on the evil forces that destroyed my 
  place of business and ruined my livelihood.
  Hook: Right now, I want to beat an enemy. Sometimes I go too far in 
  my search for knowledge. When someone first enters the shoreside 
  ‘Eastern Wares’, what grabs the attention is not the few objects in 
  
  33
  display, but rather the appearance of its owner, Saleem Halabi, with 
  his eyes from another land. Though he will elude the question if 
  asked, he is from one of the many tribes of desert nomads. The 
  ‘Eyes of the Sapphire’ are considered as an omen of magic for these 
  people and thus, under the tutelage of the tribe’s shaman, the young 
  Saleem was sent to study with the fire mystics even deeper in the 
  desert where few dare venture.
  The harsh conditions, coupled with strict upbringing by the mystics, 
  molded the aspirant’s personality, who quickly became ruthless. It 
  was a strange place, where you must sting or be stung. Saleem even 
  came to enjoy this cruelty, as it meant getting even more of the 
  mystic knowledge he craved. Once his apprenticeship came to an 
  end, Saleem was sworn as a member of the Order of the Lorekeepers, 
  a branch of the mystics tasked with the preservation of artifacts. 
  But one day, all his efforts went to waste as the mystics’ haven 
  was obliterated by a dissenting faction of fire mystics. He barely 
  escaped and went as far as he could go, settled, and used his artifact 
  expertise to set up a mildly successful fine imports business. But this 
  import shop is only a stepping stone on the road to vengeance and 
  rebuilding the Lorekeepers’ Order.
  Enkhmet of the Blacktalons
  Peddler of Coarse Rugs
  Appearance: I am a jeering rugs and tapestry merchant. One eye 
  is green, and one is blue. I’m wearing a torn white laborer’s gown, a 
  rope belt, a maroon, calf-length jacket, knee-length leggings, bronze 
  arm bands, low ankle shoes, a flat round cap, and glasses.
  
  34
  Portrayal: I bluntly say what other people are hinting or hiding. And 
  I am a free spirit - no one tells me what to do. I fell in love with one 
  of the hobgoblins who discovered me and I want to impress them.
  Hook: Right now, I want a safe place to be but I am suspicious of 
  everyone, seeing people in the worst light when given the chance.
   Enkhmet was lost as a child when his mother’s caravan was attacked 
  by a goblin raiding party. He was captured and would have been 
  eaten had his sarcastic and shrewd sense of humor not endeared him 
  to the raiding captain. Raised among the goblinoids, Enkhmet has 
  recently returned to human civilization to establish trade between 
  his tribe and the rich city. His adoptive family consists of many 
  expert tanners and weavers, and he hopes he can make some coin 
  by selling exotic hobgoblin tapestries to the humans.
  His sarcastic nature and hobgoblin upbringing make Enkhmet seem 
  blunt and rough to the city-dwellers. He is easily identified, being the 
  loudest and the rudest merchant in the marketplace. His common 
  sales-pitch — ‘Rugs tough enough to contend with your foot-stench!’ 
  can be heard ringing through the stalls over the jingling sound of his 
  brass arm bands that identify him as a hobgoblin merchant. Rather 
  than hurt his sales, this has made him somewhat of a spectacle to 
  the passing shoppers, and his business is booming.
  Enkhmet hopes the money made by his peddling will impress his 
  whole tribe, and especially Ahmkranna, the shaman’s daughter, with 
  whom he has recently had some dalliances. He hopes marrying her 
  will finally put to rest the nagging question that faces him in city 
  and tribe alike — ‘Where, Enkhmet, do you really belong?’
  
  35
  Esesha Goldenbough
  Fugitive Lute-Maker
  Appearance: I am a distant musical instrument maker. I use 
  profanity. I’m wearing wool purple clergy style garb with low-necked 
  shirt, a rope belt, a waist-length cloak, calf-length pants, bracers, 
  monsterskin shoes, a cloth skull cap, and a sash of braided leather 
  rope.
  Portrayal: I consider magical healers and healing either to be 
  cheating and unaccountable, or an integral future counterpart of 
  a greater medical art. Get me away from this boring life! Those I 
  wronged in my former life are still in pain from my sins.
  Hook: Right now, I want a new job. I know of a famous inventor out 
  there I’ll find someday.
   Esesha Goldenbough seems a quiet, if somewhat vulgar, young lute-
  maker in the service of the Bards of the God of Harmony. She became 
  an initiate when she came to the Harmonic Cloister, but has never 
  seriously pursued advancing to Bard. She spends her days building 
  lutes, and her nights drinking at the local tavern, willing - if not 
  content - to pass her life in obscurity.
  Before coming to the Cloister, however, Esesha was a prodigy in 
  the healing arts. Her abilities and youthful cockiness made her look 
  down on the other healers in town, and when the area was stricken 
  by Bonewrack Plague, she delved deep into hidden magics to find a 
  cure rather than treat the symptoms like everyone else was doing. 
  Unfortunately, her experimentation and her neglect of the curative 
  work going on around her led to much suffering and death, until 
  she was driven out of town by a mob. She has been on the run ever 
  since, determined to put the people of Kalendon out of her mind.
  
  36
  Recent gossip among the arcane students, coupled with a few 
  harmonic lessons from her superiors, have whispered to her of a 
  great master in a far-off land who has developed a new form of magic 
  using secrets she had tasted at the pinnacle of her curative research. 
  She is now seeking an out from the cloister, to find and learn from 
  this great master - if only she knew where to begin to look.
  Limmy Gladeskipper
  Sorrowful Healer
  Appearance: I am a chummy mushroom seller. I speak slowly and 
  deliberately. I’m wearing hemp gold-red leather garb with shirt, a 
  cloth belt, a knee-length cloak, pants, elbow-length sleeves, fishskin 
  shoes, a coif, and a healing kit.
  Portrayal: I change my attitude and personality to blend in with 
  the people around me. And I need to find myself a place to belong. 
  I’m still holding on to a memory of my immortal parent, longing for 
  just a feeling of seeing them once.
  Hook: Right now, I want to get healing for my parent. The monstrous 
  enemy we faced in battle still leaves me quivering with fear.
   Limmy (short for Limanella) is a diminutive but attractive middle-
  aged woman often found in the market square selling her curative 
  potions and the mushrooms to make them yourself. She is popular 
  around town, and values her friendships so much she often loses 
  sight of her own personality in an attempt to please everyone around 
  her. She greets everyone with a wide smile, although the observant 
  passerby would notice a tinge of sadness in her amicable grin.
  Limmy’s gifts with the healing arts come from her father, an ailing 
  man who was once the best physician in the land. Her good looks 
  
  37
  and jovial nature, however, come from her mother, an angel by 
  the name of Trysaade. Six years ago, Trysaade gave up her mortal 
  presence to bind the Lord of Thirteen Tongues, a demon that was 
  wreaking havoc on their homeland. Limmy and her father know that 
  Trysaade is still watching over them, but her absence left a hole in 
  both their hearts that will never be filled.
  Limmy is working hard to advance her craft, hoping to extend her 
  father’s waning years, or at least to make them more comfortable. 
  Her dreams are still filled with the faces of the Lord of Thirteen 
  Tongues, and she can’t bear the thought of facing such a dangerous 
  world with both her parents gone from it.
  Gilslyer
  Appearance: I am an aggressive gravedigger. I’m wearing torn and 
  bloody tan and grey noble’s garb with collared shirt, a leather girdle, 
  a calf-length waistcoat, knee-length trousers, short sleeves, laceless 
  shoes, and a brimmed hat.
  Portrayal: I know nothing of what is happening to me, but I know 
  it is not natural. It is my duty to provide bodies to my master.
  Hook: Right now, I want to find my missing family members as was 
  promised by my master. Gilslyer came to the town looking for his lost 
  brother and sister. It was here he met his master, the necromancer, 
  Abodeen. Abodeen promised to help Gilslyer track down and find his 
  lost siblings if he would work for Abodeen for a period of time digging 
  up bodies from the local cemetery for Abodeen’s experiments (it has 
  been two years now). Gilslyer has become restless as he has not seen 
  his master fulfill any of his promises yet. Unbeknownst to Gilslyer, 
  Abodeen has no intention of helping him and has been quick to 
  
  38
  notice Gilslyer’s restlessness. One night, Abodeen cast a spell on the 
  sleeping Gilslyer to slowly turn him into an undead monstrosity that 
  would follow Abodeen’s instructions without question. Gilslyer has 
  noticed something different about himself but is not sure exactly 
  what is different.
  Bafmus
  Appearance: I am a timid toy maker and have uncanny luck. I’m 
  wearing muddy green-brown leather garb with shirt, a leather belt, a 
  knee-length waistcoat, knee-length trousers, elbow-length sleeves, 
  long pointed shoes and tattoos.
  Portrayal: I automatically assume everyone is better at everything 
  than me, even though it is not true. I’m the most talented toy maker 
  in my village, but I rather keep to myself. You find me playing with 
  my toys.
  Hook: Right now, I want to find my missing friend Abeth, but despite 
  my best efforts, I am frightened of the forest and its eldritch secrets. 
  I was born in the little village of Kemoor in the high forest region 
  Tewood, which has a long toy-maker tradition. Many little toy-maker 
  hamlets lie in the forest of Tewood, but Kemoor is the center of the 
  toy-manufacturing. Here the people hold a fair twice a year and sell 
  their craftwork to the traders. My uncle Grancis raised me as a toy 
  maker after my mother was accused and taken by the witch-hunters. 
  My father I do not know. Uncle Grancis told my to keep my uncanny 
  luck secret, to not raise the suspicion of the other villagers. Only my 
  dear friend Abeth knows about it — I win every dice game, lightning 
  spares me, I find gold nuggets in the river, and effortlessly trace 
  scarce and precious plants. I even once escaped a forest fire.
  
  39
  At my 13th birthday little tattoos appeared all over my body. They 
  look like the toys I’m carving out of wood, but in reality they’re 
  blueprints for really artful miniatures. I need the brass mirror of my 
  mother to make the underlying designs shine through the flippant 
  tattoos. If I use the mysterious schemes to craft the toys in the light 
  of the three full moons, they come to life as my companions. Abeth 
  has vanished three days ago, while collecting herbs in the forest. I 
  need to go after her, but I’m afraid. Will my luck safe me this time?
  Merse Montpé
  Appearance: I am a foolhardy librarian. I have sapphire blue eyes. 
  I’m wearing a beaded red dress with gown, a leather girdle, a waist-
  length cloak, long stockings, elbow-length sleeves, fishskin shoes, 
  a red feathered hood and a brooch.
  Portrayal: I can’t stay still for too long. And I believe chains are 
  meant to be broken, as are those who would forge them. It is my 
  duty to protect my family and its members.
  Hook: Right now, I want to make my sister healthy again. She is 
  seriously lovelorn. I don’t throw caution to the wind, I fire it out 
  of a cannon! I was raised in the metropolis of Ancoux, the most 
  beautiful and interesting city in the whole kingdom of Montou. I’m 
  the second daughter to the rich trader Jaufray Montpé and his wife 
  Lene. My family belongs to the most influential and rich lineages of 
  Ancoux. This is why my mother spends a lot of effort and money to 
  get me married. But it’s all useless. I do have far more wits and esprit 
  then any aspirant I have seen so far. And I will never get married to 
  a moron.
  
  40
  To feed my hunger for books and knowledge my father gave the 
  most interesting occupation I can think of. I administer the Montpé 
  library, a collection of tomes and handwritings my grandfather Tibert 
  originated. Many scholars come here to seek wisdom and knowledge, 
  even from the famous library of the capital city of Herblau.
  There is this strange man called Bertion Castow who visits regularly. 
  Something about him gives me the creeps. He inquires about old 
  handwritings. In one of these manuscripts I found a trace of a 
  forgotten abbey in the hills near to Ancoux. Spending some weeks 
  pretending to visit relatives who live there, I secretly explored the 
  old monastery and saved precious writings from the ruins. This was 
  exciting and I’d love to do it again. But at the moment I need to take 
  care of my big sister Sibill, who is ill because her fiance pretends to 
  not love her anymore.
  Mileena
  Appearance: I am a dullard alchemist. I have a breathy voice. I’m 
  wearing wool black craftsman’s garb with collared shirt, a coin and 
  beaded belt with fringes, an ankle-length jacket, calf-length pants, 
  puffy sleeves, high ankle boots, a hat, and a chain and locket.
  Portrayal: I don’t get most jokes and need to have them explained. 
  I’m committed to my comrades, not to ideals. I have an ancient text 
  that holds terrible secrets that must not fall into the wrong hands.
  Hook: Right now, I want to be with my best friend but the tyrant 
  who rules my land will stop at nothing to see me killed. Mileena is 
  from a region on the border of a human kingdom and an orc infested 
  badland. Currently, an orc leader is attempting to unite several clans. 
  Mileena is in possession of a tome from an evil orcish god believed 
  
  41
  to contain an incantation to bestow the immense powers upon the 
  recipient. The leader desperately wants this tome delivered along 
  with Mileena’s head. Her chain and locket are from her ‘best friend’ 
  who is using the locket to lead the orcish leader to her.
  Lucia
  Appearance: I am a sharp-tongued poet. I use profanity. I’m wearing 
  richly embroidered green-red noble’s garb with high-collared shirt, a 
  rope belt, a knee-length waistcoat, knee-length leggings, rolled-up 
  sleeves, laceless shoes, a flat round cap, and a thumb ring.
  Portrayal: I am just as capable as my sibling! I just have to believe 
  in myself. I serve my own purposes first. I seek to protect something 
  of great importance to me by keeping it a secret, so you better forget 
  what you just heard.
  Hook: Right now, I want to make my family healthy again but 
  I’m convinced of the significance of my destiny, and blind to my 
  shortcomings and the risk of failure. Beauty is as only deep as the 
  sin. For Lucia, the sin has never ended and thus, the beauty around 
  her is endless. Ever since she was a small child, her parents lied 
  to her over and over making her believe anything was possible. Of 
  course, it was done in the name of love. Lucia was The First, the 
  first child to be born without some inkling of magic in the Shadow 
  Woods, and she has been despised and avoided since. In the strict 
  hierarchy based on ability, her inability has been and forever will be 
  a dead end. On the other hand, her older brother was born with twice 
  the normal amount of power and celebrated likewise. Depressed and 
  ever jealous, Lucia ran from one job to another trying to find the 
  perfect start to her inevitable destiny. In reality, she lived off the 
  money sent home by an indifferent brother. A year and a day ago, 
  
  42
  a dirty, ragged kobold who claimed to be a shaman promised her 
  a trinket that would give her an amount of magic four-fold larger 
  than any she had ever seen before in return for three-fourths of her 
  life savings. Blinded by her want, she agreed. Now, Lucia is running 
  around with a small pouch and dressed as a noble. Other than not 
  having any money for food, Lucia is positive her journey has begun. 
  Hopefully, she will figure out how to use her magic soon.
  Adwen Gorstin
  Appearance: I am an aggressive basket maker. I keep shifting my 
  knife from hand to hand. I’m wearing tight green-brown clergy style 
  garb with low-necked tunic, a cloth belt, long robes, calf-length 
  pants, cuffed sleeves, goblinskin boots, a leather cap, and a religious 
  symbol.
  Portrayal: Particular stimuli, such as a specific color or loud noises, 
  make me go crazy. I need to get as much enjoyment out of mortal 
  life as I can. My master taught me everything I know, but now I must 
  kill him and take his place.
  Hook: Right now, I want to find my missing family member. I will 
  go out of my way to get recognized if I haven’t been recognized in 
  a while. Adwen Gorstin was trained in illusion by an individual who 
  is seemingly immortal, but that’s really because her master was the 
  latest in a long line of illusionists who take their masters’ places. 
  She tried to do the same and lost, leading to PTSD-like symptoms 
  associated with bright colors and loud noises. She is currently 
  keeping low by choosing the most mundane profession she could 
  imagine, a homeless basket-weaver. She is deliberately a good one so 
  she doesn’t look ‘suspiciously unsuspicious’ either, since her master 
  knows to look for that. She occasionally does something noteworthy 
  
  43
  to prevent herself from looking too un-noteworthy. She is currently 
  looking for her estranged brother, an adventurer. Her plan is to 
  trick her brother into fighting her master, leading to her master 
  having few spells left (but her brother losing), at which point she can 
  overwhelm her former master. She is also a devout worshipper of the 
  god of illusions and keeps his symbol on her - but few know what it 
  is, because the illusionist god’s symbol is necessarily disguised as 
  some other god’s symbol.
  Sonya Shiela
  Appearance: I am a tender locksmith. I have trouble hearing. I’m 
  wearing velvet green rural clothing with a doublet, a leather belt 
  with a buckle, long robes, calf-length pants, arm bands, high ankle 
  shoes, a flat round cap, and a brooch.
  Portrayal: I am fascinated by birth and childhood, having never 
  experienced it myself. I believe the strongest are meant to rule. I am 
  in love with a lord but courtly rules prevent us from eloping.
  Hook: Right now, I’m so tired and I just want to get some sleep. 
  I never fail at my tasks, even if I have to resort to less honorable 
  means to complete them. Sonya Shiela is a locksmith whose family 
  has worked for the royal family for generations fixing their locks 
  and trying to design better locks for their doors. In her work, she has 
  fallen in love with the local royalty, but of course, being a humble 
  locksmith the romance is forbidden. That said, she made the keys to 
  most of the doors, so she can get in where she wants. However, doing 
  this during non-work hours is quite draining. She’s been debating 
  ‘kidnapping’ the royal family member so they can run off together, 
  since she refuses to let her love go.
  
  44
  Yeremi of Korm
  ‘The Watcher’, Unassuming Guardsman
  Appearance: I am a nervous guard. I have a breathy voice. I’m 
  wearing dark yellow leather armour, an intricate leather belt, a knee-
  length jacket, pants, puffy sleeves, curly toe boots, a hood, and a belt.
  Portrayal: I am actively involved in the medical society and engage 
  in theoretical discourse and debate. I think gold is worth more than 
  lives. I had a rival all throughout my training and we still compete.
  Hook: Right now, I want a safe place to be but I can’t trust anyone, 
  even those who think they are close to me. Yeremi is a Kormish man 
  with slightly weathered skin and suspicious eyes in the service of the 
  city watch. His love of gold makes him amicable to turning a blind 
  eye to petty offenses - for a price, of course - but overall he upholds 
  the law, and will work to ensure order is maintained in his city. He 
  is well-acquainted with the poor folk in town, although if pressed, 
  no one really knows any details of his life.
  To Yeremi, his personal life is his closest-guarded secret. When not 
  in guard clothing, Yeremi is The Watcher, an infamous healer known 
  to attempt any procedure or experiment, no matter how dangerous, 
  for enough gold. No one has ever seen the face of The Watcher—he 
  wears a black mask painted with a single, unblinking eye—but he 
  corresponds with the medical community regularly, publishing the 
  details of his latest daring experiment for all to see.
  Yeremi became The Watcher after being cast out from the Kormish 
  Houses of Healing for a gruesomely botched experiment. He has thus 
  far avoided suspicion by being the guard responsible for the warrant 
  on The Watcher’s arrest, but fears his identity might soon become 
  compromised. Kanara, his greatest rival during their training, has 
  
  45
  recently been spotted in town. Whether by accident or by malice, he 
  fears her presence will expose him unless he can frame her as The 
  Watcher and leave town before she does.
  Alacose ‘Al’ Newsman
  Appearance: I am an uncertain constable. I sniff incessantly as if 
  having a running nose. I’m wearing wool black-green merchant’s 
  garb with garnache, a leather belt with buckle, a cape, knee-length 
  trousers, puffy sleeves, high-heeled boots, a leather cap, and a 
  leather collar. I carry a bronze wrapped club and a lantern, with an 
  issued short sword for emergencies.
  Portrayal: Life of the party. Hail fellow well met! Come pour 
  yourself a glass and join the company. And I believe we are all in this 
  together, for better or for worse. I created a great work for someone, 
  and then found them unworthy to receive it. I’m still looking for 
  someone worthy.
  Hook: Right now, I want to take care of my friends and advance in the 
  ranks, but I cannot tolerate the presence of non-local investigators, 
  spending more time trying to hinder them than working on my own 
  cases. Alacose ‘Al’ Newsman comes from a family of petty merchants 
  but has a bit too casual attitude toward hard work to really fit in. So 
  it was arranged he would take a post in the town constabulary. He 
  fit in well with his glad handing ways and ready smile, but lately he 
  has become dissatisfied with his place in life and wishes to prove 
  himself to his family by ascending in the ranks, to which ends he has 
  started working his web of contacts to solve minor crimes and bring 
  himself to the attention of his superiors (and the public). Showing 
  up some out of towners or even proving them guilty of a crime is 
  just the sort of thing that could be his big break.
  
  46
  Skorri Wayfinder
  Appearance: I am a muscular guide with unkempt beard and hair 
  and fur-lined, weather-stained clothing meant for rugged outdoor 
  travel.
  Portrayal: Cock-sure and overly fond of drink, I can rub those I 
  meet the wrong way but they eventually hire me anyway because 
  it’s widely known I’m the best ranger for a hundred miles in any 
  direction.
  Hook: My skill at being a guide is a lie. My success is the result of a 
  magic sword I found that always points the way to any destination 
  I name. Skorri Wayfinder was merely one scout and hunter out 
  of dozens until an accident sent him plummeting over a rocky 
  escarpment and into a hidden cave. There he discovered a skeletal 
  warrior holding a majestic blade the likes of which Skorri had never 
  seen. Claiming the blade, Skorri wandered the caverns for days 
  seeking an escape. At his wits end and with his supplies running 
  low, he prayed to find a way out. The sword tingled and he knew 
  the direction in which to travel, eventually following the twists and 
  turns to freedom, discovering along the way that the path leads out 
  but not always by the most direct route. Since then, Skorri has known 
  great success as a guide, almost too much...and his competitors are 
  beginning to suspect something.
  Sasha Redreaver
  Vigilante Information Broker
  Appearance: I am a mocking ships supplier. I talk too quietly. I’m 
  wearing striped tan and grey lower class clothes with high-collared 
  
  47
  shirt, a leather belt, knee-length leggings, puffy sleeves, fishskin 
  boots, a cloth skull cap, and a chain.
  Portrayal: I live to shine the light on the dark underbelly of society. 
  Scavengers, thieves, and con-men are never tolerated, and I expose 
  them at every opportunity. And I believe the cause of my affliction 
  can be traced to a specific source - and it shall feel my vengeance!
  Hook: Right now, I want to protect my home and my family, but 
  I’m worried my enemy is too powerful. Sasha’s upbringing on the 
  streets of the docks district shows in her dress and in her jeering 
  mannerisms. They also imparted a streetwise cunning, a cast of 
  shady connections, and a strong sense of honour and pride in her 
  family and comrades. When her father was killed in the crossfire 
  between two rival gangs operating out of the dockyards, she vowed 
  to be a champion for all the honest and hard-working folk that call 
  the city’s underbelly home.
  Sasha uses her position as a dock worker to overhear all manner of 
  potentially dangerous information, which she passes on to anyone 
  she perceives as honourable and capable in the hopes it can be used 
  to hurt the powerful criminal element that pervades her home. She 
  also knows every passage through the labyrinthine alleyways, every 
  smuggler, and every hidden watering hole in the way only someone 
  who has spent her whole life on the docks can. She is a tremendous 
  source of information and guidance, and will offer both to anyone 
  she trusts free of charge.
  Recently, however, Sasha has been hearing about how one of the 
  crime lords has figured out who keeps informing on their operations. 
  She is waffling between finding a protector or convincing her family 
  
  48
  to flee town with her. Both choices have dire consequences, and with 
  time running out, she finds herself paralyzed by indecision.
  Pres
  Appearance: I am a suspicious auctioneer. I never comb or trim my 
  hair. I’m wearing threadbare tan and grey rural clothing with low-
  necked tunic, a leather girdle, a knee-length cloak, pants, bracers, 
  low ankle shoes, a small hat, and a worry stone.
  Portrayal: I do not say anything unless someone says something to 
  me. And though I have some power, I know I can gain more. Similar 
  to how one loves their home, I love the world.
  Hook: Right now, I want to find my missing family member and 
  unlocking an ancient mystery to do so is worth the price of a 
  civilization. Having lost the one most dear to them, Pres will stop 
  at nothing get back the one they love. This obsession has overridden 
  their deep-seated love of the world around them and their concern 
  for others and has caused them to commit to a path they fear will 
  come with a heavy cost in innocent lives and might even undermine 
  civilization as we know it. This might not be true but they believe 
  it, therefore it weighs dark and heavy upon their soul, though not 
  enough to change their course of action. To that end they quietly 
  gather the wealth and influence needed to pull off their dark and 
  desperate vision. Due to their dark course of action they are overly 
  suspicious of those around them fearing someone might try to stop 
  them.
  
  49
  Carael the Quick
  Appearance: I am a complacent auctioneer. I seem very greasy. I’m 
  wearing muddy dark green lower class clothes with high-collared 
  tunic, a leather belt, a waist-length jacket, calf-length pants, arm 
  bands, long pointed boots, a mask, and an umbrella.
  Portrayal: I have a lesson for every situation, drawn from observing 
  nature. And I was put in this world to protect and save life. I’ll never 
  forget the family farm I grew up on.
  Hook: Right now, I’m so hungry and I just want some food but 
  I’m overly suspicious of strangers - for all I know I might not a be 
  stranger to them, and why would they keep quiet about that?. Hogar 
  was born on a cattle farm. He grew up on the hard work of the family 
  farm, herding them and milking daily. He was a simple man until 
  the day the collectors came. He didn’t know it at the time, but his 
  farm was failing and his father had taken a loan and it couldn’t be 
  paid. His father lost his life. Since then, Hogar was to wander with 
  his mother, looking for some place to work. They eventually found 
  their way to the bigger settlements area and heard an auctioneer 
  doing his work, Hogar was intrigued by the way the man talked. How 
  could he talk so fast? Eventually after sneaking off from his mother a 
  few times he was able to pick up on it, and not long after he started 
  his own auctions though he is still leery of the people he is around. 
  Could the collectors still be out there and watching him?
  Pendo
  Appearance: I am a chatty auctioneer. I tend to spray spittle while 
  speaking. I’m wearing richly embroidered black beggar’s garb with 
  
  50
  garnache, a cloth belt, a knee-length waistcoat, long stockings, 
  rolled-up sleeves, curly toe shoes, a small hat, and armlets.
  Portrayal: I take advantage of others’ pity to justify charging them 
  exorbitant prices. And I believe the world revolves around me. I make 
  outrageous claims about where I’m from and who my birth parents 
  are.
  Hook: Right now, I want to steal something that I have been 
  searching for my whole life. Pendo’s past is cloaked in mystery. 
  You could ask where he’s from, but you’ll get a different answer 
  every time. He’s not unfriendly, but he has a tendency to lay on 
  guilt thickly when attempting to make a large sale that many find 
  off-putting. He claims the item he seeks once belonged to his 
  grandfather, and is his birthright, however he has no evidence to 
  back up his claims.
  Lefmich
  Appearance: I am a tired assassin. I nod often but I’m not listening. 
  I’m wearing crude blue clergy style garb with a black shirt, an 
  intricate leather belt, a waistcoat, calf-length pants, bracers, fishskin 
  shoes, a small hat, and shiny bracers.
  Portrayal: I sometimes adopt a persona of child-like innocence, 
  which comes through stronger when I try to remember my past. 
  And I believe some races need to be exterminated. I killed a distant 
  relative of the noble family, and even though the victim was of the 
  hated race, the nobles took it personally. Now they are searching 
  for me.
  
  51
  Hook: Right now, I want my old job back but a scandal prevents me 
  from ever going home again. That kind of trouble seems to follow 
  me around.
  Quedre
  Appearance: I am a wavering professional gambler. I wear a ring on 
  every finger. I’m wearing velvet green-red noble’s garb with a low-
  necked shirt, a leather girdle, a knee-length waistcoat, calf-length 
  pants, knee-high riding boots, and a broad-rimmed hat with a long 
  green feather stuck into the band on the right side.
  Portrayal: I’m oblivious to etiquette and social expectations. And I 
  believe you need to make peace with those who stole your life, and 
  start anew. I treat my valued comrades like brothers, and I will let 
  no insult or injury fall upon them.
  Hook: Right now, I want to be a hero to prove myself but I care 
  more for the money I’m paid by the museums than for the artifacts I 
  deliver to them. I have been ostracized by my own family! How dare 
  they, as if I were not worthy of partaking of the family’s wealth. I am 
  the oldest and am entitled to my due inheritance, more than any 
  of my younger siblings to be sure. I may have gambled away much 
  of what I was given, but life itself is the ultimate gamble. In order 
  to win, you have to take chances and the bigger the risk, the bigger 
  the payoff.
  I will show them the error of their ways. Already I have procured 
  a number of items for a reputable organization and have been 
  rewarded handsomely for my efforts. And those that aided me in 
  these endeavors, they are my true friends and I wholeheartedly 
  
  52
  embrace them as members of the family. They look to me to lead 
  them to glory and fortune and we shall have it!
  The family name will rise to new heights, but it is my name and 
  those of my comrades that will be remembered. There shall come a 
  day when I present myself once again before my family and reveal 
  to them how my gambles have paid off, how I have acquired more 
  wealth and fame than all of them combined. I shall be appointed 
  head of the family, welcome in my companions, and we shall build 
  an empire.
  Kamo
  Appearance: I am a secretive museum curator. I have a nasty rash. 
  I’m wearing loose purple commoner’s garb, a cloth belt, a waist-
  length jacket, long stockings, arm bands, curly toe shoes, a hat, and 
  leather bracers.
  Portrayal: Being around children brings me joy. And I believe the 
  thing that keeps a ship together is mutual respect between captain 
  and crew. I am more than just a fan of my idol. I have become them!
  Hook: Right now, I want to be high but I know of a famous inventor 
  out there that I’ll find someday. On the surface, Kamo is a jolly man 
  who wears fanciful shoes and hats. He wears bright colors and offers 
  treats to children who visit his museum, which displays mysterious 
  artifacts and items of wonder. When he was younger, he wanted 
  to be a famous inventor to create the objects he was so fascinated 
  with. His rash of failures led to a drug problem that he does his best 
  to keep hidden from his employees, who view him with respect. His 
  lingering stress and anxiety exacerbate his skin problems, leaving 
  him unconsciously scratching an itchy red patch just beneath his 
  
  53
  collar. Still, he hopes to one day regain his passion for inventing 
  and find success.
  Marlef
  Appearance: I am a shy entertainer. I sweat profusely. I’m wearing 
  lose tan and grey lower class clothes with low-necked shirt, a rope 
  belt, a calf-length waistcoat, knee-length leggings, bracers, laced 
  shoes, a cloth skull cap, and a nose ring.
  Portrayal: I interrupt myself. Even if you could fathom the freedom 
  I’ve found, you’d never grasp what gives me my strength. I fell in 
  love with someone I was spying on.
  Hook: Right now, I want money to buy something nice for my 
  sweetie but I am by my fear of the unknown. Born to a poor family, 
  in a place where only the strong survive, Marlef developed a quick 
  wit and nimble fingers to overcome their short stature and less than 
  athletic build. Though his mind is sharp, it is often quicker than his 
  mouth and it leads him to frequently interrupt himself. This coupled 
  with his shy and anxious nature and profuse sweating makes him 
  socially awkward and makes it difficult for him to establish deep 
  meaningful relationships with those around him. Having lived a 
  difficult life, Marlef finds strength in his past and the terrible costs 
  that were paid to escape it. Though rarely staying in any one place 
  for long, he has maintained his present location for some time due 
  to a deep but secret affection for one of the locals. However, being 
  frozen between fear and desire has weighed heavily upon his mental 
  state, and despite having led to many an inspired song and sonnet, 
  may soon cause a rash action or mental breakdown if something 
  does not change.
  
  54
  Ikray
  Appearance: I am a prisoner in the dungeon though I was once 
  a small importer of foreign goods. I am never without my pet 
  mouse. I’m wearing simple light green lower class clothes with 
  undergarments, a leather girdle, long robes, calf-length pants, puffy 
  sleeves, laced shoes, an iron mask, and holding a weather beaten 
  compass.
  Portrayal: I chew my fingernails and toenails. I believe that all life 
  is precious. Somewhere, I can’t remember where, I have my own 
  patch of land that I call home.
  Hook: Right now, I want to be a hero to prove my worth to myself 
  and others, but I am imprisoned physically in this dungeon and 
  mentally by the guilt and shame of actions that I believe myself 
  to have committed. Hailing from a distant land and possessed by a 
  strange curse, Ikray knows a dark secret he can no longer remember. 
  To this end, he has been imprisoned in a local lord’s dungeon for a 
  crime he did not commit though he is convinced of his own guilt in 
  the matter, due in part to the strange effects of the curse. Locked in 
  an iron mask and shunned by the dungeon guards, his only friend 
  is a pet mouse he shares his meager daily rations with. His only 
  possession save the clothes on their back is a weather-beaten old 
  compass that appears to be broken.
  Eg
  Appearance: I am a skeptical snake oil salesman. I use the same 
  vocal pause repeatedly (ummmm, er, like, and so, uh). I’m wearing 
  hemp gold-red leather garb with gown, a metal ring belt, an ankle-
  
  55
  length cloak, knee-length trousers, short sleeves, long pointed boots, 
  a small hat, and lip rings.
  Portrayal: I blow up when someone badmouths my old home. 
  And I do not knuckle under authority - that would only slow me 
  down. I know I’ve done my best work when nobody knows I’ve done 
  anything at all.
  Hook: Right now, I want to read and study but I am always in a foul 
  mood. This unconfident salesman sells Rejuvenating Miracle Cures 
  in small corked bottles, but even he is unsure about the reliability of 
  his product. His halting and awkward delivery confuses his customers 
  and is not good for sales. Despite his lackluster performance, he does 
  his best, and he is always upset when officers come by to close him 
  down or when other people question the validity of his cures. He 
  is loyal to his mother, who wanted him to become a monk and a 
  scholar, and has vowed to not return home until he achieves at least 
  a meager education. However, his poor reading skills frustrate him 
  and drive him away from efforts to study.
  Risfar
  Appearance: I am a mischievous professor. I have violet eyes. I’m 
  wearing fur-lined red-blue noble’s garb with collared shirt, a cloth 
  belt, a waist-length jacket, pants, puffy sleeves, sandals, a cloth skull 
  cap, and a ring.
  Portrayal: Is it really my fault that all who come to me suffering also 
  come bearing compensation? I often think of the family I left behind 
  when I became an apprentice, I would like to find them some day.
  Hook: Right now, I want to be a hero to prove myself but I don’t 
  throw caution to the wind, I fire it out of a cannon! Gorgeous Risfar 
  
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  uses her looks and enchanting eyes to her advantage. Her rich 
  upbringing taught her how to manipulate others with her womanly 
  wiles. She became an apprentice to learn the art of courtship and 
  how to entertain men. She now teaches other women to do the same 
  — a respected position in high society. Her appearance, shimmering 
  eyes and hair, and spitfire mouth make her a favorite among her 
  customers.
  Silus
  Appearance: I am a former military sergeant, usually employed 
  as undercover agent in the docks of the city. I speak slowly and 
  deliberately. I’m wearing hemp black-green laborer’s garb with low-
  necked tunic, a sash, a calf-length waistcoat, pants, cuffed sleeves, 
  high leather boots, a cloth skull cap, and a thumb ring.
  Portrayal: I fell in love with someone I was spying on, but that was 
  a long time ago. Now I only do things for the money.
  Hook: Right now, I want to find my missing family member. I hide, 
  with shame, the extensive burn scars on my arms. This shy middle-
  aged man, Silus, may seem harmless at first sight, a common worker 
  of the dockside. In reality he is an undercover agent for the Crown 
  Army, after an uncertain career as sergeant. He joined the army at 
  young age, when he and his brother Tobiar were rescued from orcs 
  that raided their village and killed all other family members. After 
  training together, they went different ways. Tobiar was chosen as 
  first mate on a military ship that never come back from an expedition 
  to an undiscovered land across the ocean. During the last 10 years 
  Silus worked as a spy for the Crown trying to snatch the secrets of an 
  enigmatic thieves guild. Unfortunately, he fell in love with a young 
  drug-dealer, Dana, he was spying on, and foolishly tried to save 
  
  57
  her from that kind of life. The attempt ended with several deaths, 
  included Dana, and he almost lost his arms in the burning of a drug 
  laboratory. Now he is doing his job with apathy, and begins to think 
  he could change his life again by going in search for his lost brother.
  Tadeus Zek
  Appearance: I am a slimy tax collector. I have violet eyes. I’m 
  wearing muddy black official’s garb with collared shirt, a metal ring 
  belt, an ankle-length jacket, pants, elbow-length sleeves, high ankle 
  boots, and a small pointy hat.
  Portrayal: There’s a spot behind my ear I need to scratch and it’s 
  driving me crazy. I was cheated of my fair share of the profits, and 
  I want to get my due.
  Hook: Right now, I want to be respected but I have an insatiable 
  desire for carnal pleasures. Tadeus Zek, often called ‘Tick’, is a 
  despicable man who works as tax collector for the Sherif. When 
  Tadeus was younger, he was one of the thugs (the coward one) of the 
  Sherif before the Sherif managed to take power over the county. The 
  Sherif awarded Tick with the hated job of tax collector. Tick stinks, 
  walk fast down the streets protected by two bodyguards, and levees 
  the unfair tax enforced by the Sherif. His colleagues often trick him 
  and steal some of the money collected by tempting him with women.
  Hezdin
  Appearance: I am a common thief with a fair complexion, brown 
  hair, and brown eyes. I tend to wring my hands, brush aside my hair 
  with my hands, and shift feet when I speak with people. I’m wearing 
  
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  muddy, plush red clergy style garb, a leather belt with buckle, an 
  mid-length cloak with a hood, high boots, and cheap, leather gloves.
  Portrayal: I introduce myself to well to-do travellers and welcome 
  them to the town while passing myself off as a cleric of a temple 
  within the town. I begin telling them about the best inns, taverns, 
  and landmarks. While doing this, I immediately go into my act of 
  playing with my hair, shifting my weight from foot to foot, wringing 
  my hands, and speaking softly to catch them off-guard so I can check 
  them for anything of value. When I feel that they are not paying 
  much attention to what I am doing, I make my move and try to 
  ‘lighten their load’ and put the item in one of the many pockets of 
  my plush garb. If discovered, I immediately retreat and, if followed, 
  use my intimate knowledge of the town’s alleyways to lose my 
  pursuers.
  Hook: Right now, I am looking for my next victim.
   Hezdin’s parents died when he was five years old and he has been 
  living in the streets alone ever since. He learned his trade from local 
  thieves and now pilfers food and money from townsfolk. He quickly 
  gained notoriety and found it harder to steal from the more alert 
  people. One day, he found a discarded cleric’s robe and came up with 
  the idea to impersonate a cleric. He found newly-arriving travellers 
  easy targets. Business has been slow lately, and he is looking for his 
  next victims (preferably a rather wealthy group of adventures). His 
  angle is to steal from them outright or join their group and pilfer 
  items a little at a time from them while adventuring.
  
  59
  Weslin
  Appearance: I am a fearful artist. I pace back and forth. I’m wearing 
  feathered black-green laborer’s garb with low-necked shirt, a leather 
  belt, a knee-length waistcoat, calf-length pants, arm bands, high-
  heeled shoes, a leather cap, and a tie.
  Portrayal: I have discovered my own future is to die horribly or 
  heroically, and I accept that. And I was born to do this, so I will. I 
  almost had a lover once but they fled when they found out. It was 
  probably my lowest point.
  Hook: Right now, I’m so tired and I just want to get some sleep. I 
  desperately pursue every member of the opposite sex I encounter. 
  A mediocre artist from a highly accredited family of artists. Weslin 
  travels from town to town, steals from other artists, claims the works 
  as his own, then sells them in the next town. He is fearful he will 
  be discovered and is willing to do whatever it takes to maintain his 
  secret.
  Zellal
  Appearance: I am a wise barkeep. I have violet eyes. I’m wearing 
  wool bright middle class dinner clothes with shirt, a rope belt, a 
  cape, knee-length leggings, arm bands, curly toe slippers, a leather 
  skull cap, and toe rings.
  Portrayal: I change my mood or my mind as quickly as I change key 
  in a song. And I don’t steal from others in the trade. I desperately 
  want to meet the person I am a copy of.
  Hook: Right now, I want to read and study but I hold myself to a 
  strict code of ideals. In a place where reading is outlawed because it’s 
  
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  taken to be synonymous with black magic, this martial-arts-wielding 
  lady has been lucky enough to learn to read and get access to a 
  modest library of books. She found wonderful stories and textbooks 
  on good things - but no dark deeds - and is on a quest to whiten 
  reading’s reputation. Her honour doesn’t let her abandon a whole 
  country to superstition! Being wise, she concedes to danger by using 
  care in her plans, not just rushing into the Shah’s palace like a hero 
  from the books she’s read.
  Emil
  Appearance: I am a pleased toy maker. I have extremely wide eyes. 
  I’m wearing fur-lined red clergy style garb with shirt, a sash, a calf-
  length jacket, knee-length leggings, puffy sleeves, low ankle boots, 
  a leather cap, and a turtle shell hair clip.
  Portrayal: I am full of stories from my old life, and am eager to 
  share them. And I believe I have the gods’ favour and nothing can 
  go wrong. I come from a noble family, and one day I’ll reclaim my 
  lands and title from those who stole them from me.
  Hook: Right now, I have a place to hide, but I keep helping people 
  because I like the recognition and the feeling I could help them when 
  they needed it. Being a reading man in a country where reading 
  is synonymous with black magic, he is secretly teaching people to 
  read and think for themselves. Maybe someday he’ll get his lands 
  back, but it’s more likely to be through abandonment, not war. The 
  usurper just doesn’t have the specific knowledge or will to learn 
  required to make those lands profitable.
  
  61
  Svebri Bardison
  Appearance: I am a charismatic gigolo. I stink of garlic. I’m wearing 
  beaded black-red party dress with garnache, a girdle, long robes, 
  knee-length leggings, bracers, long antelope leather shoes, a small 
  hat, and a fur collar.
  Portrayal: The best way to get me to do something is to tell me I 
  can’t do it. I commit a lot of crimes but I’m so lovable you can’t help 
  liking me.
  Hook: Right now, I want to pay back a money lender and I will accept 
  any challenge. I was born in the northlands in a family of explorers 
  and raiders. Since my childhood I did like the wealth my father and 
  brothers were collecting and the comfort it meant, but detested their 
  bloody calling. I tend to avoid direct confrontation and battle even 
  though I know how swing that axe.
  One day during a journey to the warmer and more civilized regions 
  of the world, I left my brethren and started a new life in the empire 
  of Erales. I found a benefactor – Estel Matiago, a wealthy widow 
  – who took me in as her young lover and taught me everything I 
  needed to know about the customs of Erales. And that helped a 
  lot in finding my way in that corrupt and rotten empire. I stole 
  many of jewels, cheated at games of chance, ruined Estel’s coach 
  in a chase, bribed several empire officials and led a burglary on the 
  estate Estels cousin. But I never did kill anyone. After the robbery 
  I decided to change places and went to the wealthy harbour city of 
  Meseva. Here I bewitched a new sweetheart and got into a profitable 
  smuggling business with some shady characters. Unfortunately, my 
  last shipment got captured and now I owe money to Guame the 
  money lender. So I’m looking for a opportunity to earn the money 
  
  62
  and pay back Guame. If you need some contacts to the underworld 
  or papers bearing the right seals and signs, I’m your man.
  Sealo Recryam
  Appearance: I am a misanthropic doctor. I have a whiny voice. I’m 
  wearing impeccable purple rural clothing with a nice shirt, a cloth 
  belt, long robes, knee-length leggings, arm bands, curly toe boots, 
  and a rather flat cap.
  Portrayal: I collect things, but nobody can see any of my collections 
  until they are completed. I like to say, only by remembering the dead 
  do we honor their accomplishments. A kindly old man took me in 
  when he found me, and I owe him a favor ever since.
  Hook: Right now, I want to relax with my best friend but I always 
  expect people’s hatred well before it comes. Sealo Recryam is a highly 
  intelligent doctor who has become disillusioned by encountering 
  a variety of easily-avoidable maladies and patients who return 
  with the same problems multiple times when they should have 
  been avoidable. He was a medic in a war and lost many friends as 
  army patients. This makes anyone he loses now because of patient 
  stupidity all the more depressing. Accordingly, he is taking a break 
  with an old man who took him in as a kid, but is always angry at 
  people who approach, which annoys the kinder old man.
  Fara Wea
  Appearance: I am an uncertain potion maker. I have some missing 
  fingers. I’m wearing fur-lined light green commoner’s garb with a 
  tunic, a sash, a waistcoat, knee-length leggings, bracers, high ankle 
  boots, a hood, and tattoos.
  
  63
  Portrayal: I look up at the sky, expecting a sign of portent. I can’t 
  remember my past, but that’s OK; it gives me more time to focus 
  on my future. Should my past come to light, it could bring ruin to 
  the world.
  Hook: Right now, I want money to buy new clothes but I will put 
  myself in harm’s way to help people, even total strangers. Fara Wea 
  is a superstitious wandering sorceress. She can’t remember her 
  past, although she suspects she did some adventuring, given her 
  missing fingers. She did go to an oracle and decided to take the 
  oracle’s warning that she shouldn’t investigate farther for the sake 
  of the world. She’s currently trying to get back on her feet, but is too 
  generous and gives everything she has to aid others.
  Auliana Tesfaye
  Appearance: I am a gentle rugs and tapestry merchant. I never 
  comb or trim my hair. I got dark skin and wearing feathered red-blue 
  commoner’s garb with garnache, a leather belt with buckle, a calf-
  length jacket, knee-length leggings, bracers, lots of golden armlets 
  and no shoes at all.
  Portrayal: I have a habit of tracing my eyebrows when I am thinking. 
  I see more than normal people do and know things before they 
  happen. I share my discoveries with everyone seeking my help.
  Hook: Right now I feel frightened because someone is pressing me 
  for my knowledge on future things. Unknown to my neighbours, I 
  have always lived in this city, even before it got walls and the desert 
  moved so close to the outer districts. In fact, I lived here already, 
  when Karuu was nothing more than an caravanserai on a trade 
  route. I passed my tapestry shop (if you look closely, you can see 
  
  64
  me levitate above the rugs) from generation to generation always to 
  myself in another incarnation or disguise. Some neighbours became 
  suspicious over the centuries I’ve lived here, but no one complains. 
  That’s because I’ve helped people with my gift of clairvoyance. 
  And I’m not as shady as the people sitting in the alleys of the cacti 
  district, stealing money from the credulous. No, my predictions have 
  never failed, even though they’re not always as clear as the waters 
  of the fountain in my garden. And that’s where I spend my nights, 
  because after dawn my feet and legs turn into a parsley root. This 
  way I stay close to nature and its ways and it offers me deep insights.
  Lately, a woman named Setashu, who is from beyond the desert, 
  came to me and betrayed me with her dark magic. Now she 
  pressures me to reveal the future. She uses her knowledge to her 
  own advantage and there is nothing I can do, she is too powerful.
  Irribes Sallene
  Appearance: I am an angry oracle. I wear a ring on every finger. I’m 
  wearing richly embroidered white leather garb with garnache, a coin 
  and beaded belt with fringes, a calf-length waistcoat, calf-length 
  pants, puffy sleeves, elegant equestrian boots, a flat round cap, and 
  a handkerchief.
  Portrayal: I constantly hum or whistle religious hymns. And I 
  believe everyone deserves a chance to improve their station in life 
  with hard work and some luck.
  Hook: Right now, I want to beat an enemy but I can get so distracted 
  by the mystery and wonder of the divine that I forget I’m supposed to 
  be fighting that other wizard. Irribes Sallene was always able to see 
  the divine plan, the path towards divinity. Even with her playmates 
  
  65
  she tried to direct them towards the wonders of the higher world. 
  Needless to say, she has often had a difficult life, but she pressed 
  on trying to help everyone reach the best life they can. A recent 
  vision showed her a wizard delving into the darkest of arts, whose 
  foolish machinations risk the lives of many, and he must be stopped. 
  However, she is often distracted from this task by the wonders of 
  the world and the need to help the person in front of her right now.
  Hym Yu
  Appearance: I am a wizened martial arts trainer. Each of my eyes is 
  of a different color. I’m wearing impeccable gold-red rural clothing 
  with gown, heavy leather belt, a waist-length cloak, knee-length 
  leggings, rolled-up sleeves, monsterskin shoes, a hood, and a pocket 
  watch.
  Portrayal: It is not everyone that deserves to learn what I teach, 
  and I limit my offerings only to a select few. And I believe what is 
  difficult points us beyond itself toward what is true. Those I have 
  left behind will always be in my thoughts and prayers.
  Hook: Right now, I’m so tired and I just want to get some sleep. 
  I intermittently suffer short-term memory loss, and often forget 
  why I went to a place or what I was talking about. The Yu family 
  has a long history of training the arrogant youthful adventurers 
  that history presents. Hym Yu was no exception. Hid away in the 
  scorched wasteland where he could contemplate in peace, only the 
  bravest ever reached him. That was the first test. Hym remembered 
  his ancient ancestor Fong Yu and the way it is said he would test his 
  apprentices. He was always more harsh in his teaching than their 
  cousin Fong Shui. The world was not the same as it was, but the long 
  years of training exacted upon him by his mother, after his father 
  
  66
  was killed by a Razorclaw, have served him well. And so he survives 
  and passes on what he has learned to those strong enough to endure 
  his lessons. His thoughts often turn to the friends he lost during 
  the last Raider uprising. Could he have done more? The memories 
  haunt him. Now, he is tired, so very tired. Has he not earned his 
  rest? And here before him are yet more hopefuls. Now what was it 
  they wanted...ah yes — a map to the object of their quest. If only he 
  could remember where he had put it. He would make them earn it, 
  of course. They were not strong enough yet to take on this quest. 
  Training in the ancient ways would soon make them ready.
  Engthorn Grenorin
  Appearance: I am a skilled bowman. I smoke a foul smelling herb. 
  I’m wearing torn purple leather garb with garnache, a rope belt, 
  a knee-length jacket, pants, cuffed sleeves, long pointed boots, 
  brimmed hat, and a tin of chewing tobacco.
  Portrayal: When the bodies hit the floor, my hands go into 
  automatic. I believe we must protect the relics of the past, else their 
  creators will fade from memory. My friends are all I have now, I 
  would gladly die for them than be alone again.
  Hook: Right now, I want to beat an enemy but I made a terrible 
  mistake in battle that cost many lives - and I would do anything 
  to keep that mistake secret. Engthorn Grenorin had long enjoyed 
  smoking spark weed, much to the chagrin of those around him. He 
  hadn’t enjoyed it the first few times, but it was something he did 
  with his father when he was younger, despite the protests of his 
  mother. They were gone now, like so many during the famine. As an 
  orphan living on the edge of a small town, he’d had to live mostly off 
  the land and thus became the skilled bowman he was today. The foul 
  
  67
  and acrid odour of the smoke reminded him of the better days and 
  he found solace in it. It was also the secret of his speed in combat. 
  In a rush of adrenaline when combat started, time seemed to slow 
  down for him. Sure, the racking coughing fits every morning were 
  unpleasant, but a small price to pay.
  He has a new family of sorts now - his fellow adventurers. It started 
  as a paying mercenary job, but has long since become so much more. 
  He hopes he has earned enough of their trust and respect that they 
  might help him with his own troubles. During the uprising against 
  the Brotherhood, he arrogantly left his post atop the tower to pursue 
  a fleeing cultist. In his absence, the tower was taken and the citizens 
  sheltering within were all slain by a Brotherhood Adept and his 
  minions. He hopes his friends never learn of his folly and help him 
  track down the Adept to find justice.
  Dahl Nicdor
  Appearance: I am an imperious magician. I stare and seldom blink. 
  I’m wearing richly embroidered black-green noble’s garb with high-
  collared shirt, a sash, an ankle-length cloak, pants, cuffed sleeves, 
  long pointed boots, a neatly trimmed beard, and a chain and locket.
  Portrayal: I have no patience for ridiculous superstitions about 
  magic. And I believe no one deserves my respect. I sometimes have 
  dreams of strange things that hold no relevance to anything. They 
  call to me to finish what I’ve begun.
  Hook: Right now, I want to steal something but I egregiously 
  underestimate or overestimate the risks a job represents. How Dahl 
  Nicdor came to be in possession of his locket even he cannot tell for 
  certain. Maybe it is a souvenir from his travels, an heirloom, a gift, a 
  
  68
  curiosity. But even as his thoughts slide off the truth like water off 
  an oiled surface, he dreams of lands he has never seen and people 
  he has never met. Never one to leave a magical puzzle unsolved, his 
  dogged research has finally unearthed legends claiming the locket 
  is one half of a key. Now the dreams are more persistent than ever, 
  urging him to reunite the two pieces. Confident in his own magical 
  prowess and driven by burning curiosity, he intends to comply.
  However, as it happens, the locket’s mate is owned by a powerful lord 
  who has little patience for magical matters and is not willing to part 
  with it. Never fond of the magician to begin with, he has now banned 
  Dahl from his lands after one too many attempts to persuade him. 
  Vexed by his failure and incensed by the lord’s disrespect, Dahl now 
  plans to enlist help in procuring the item he seeks by less savoury 
  means. Unfortunately, in his ire, he grossly underestimates his 
  adversary, who has become suspicious by now and is quite ready 
  for him.
  Lusa
  Appearance: I am an unsettled portrait artist. I have a breathy 
  voice. I’m wearing dirty and smelly black-green commoner’s garb 
  with shirt, a leather belt, long robes, long stockings, cuffed sleeves, 
  elegant equestrian boots, a cloth skull cap, and toe rings.
  Portrayal: My expertise with horses does not carry over to social 
  interactions. If you know something, then I need to know it too. No 
  one is above the law - no one but this smug rascal who could get off 
  free with that letter of the Cardinal. I will find her and make sure 
  there is no loophole this time.
  
  69
  Hook: Right now, I want to find my missing friend but my affliction 
  has left me cowardly and over cautious.
   My breathy voice is due to consumption, the illness that also keeps 
  me from the horse trade. I haven’t always been able to make a 
  living at portraiture. Times were once so hard I turned to forgery. 
  My partner in crime, who is now on the run from the law (and my 
  revenge), is shielding herself with a forged letter from the Cardinal, 
  and has framed me for her crime.
  I was brought up poor but proud, sticking to proper behavior as 
  a way to earn respect and maybe advance my station. I learned 
  hostelry as my father’s trade, but I have never been able to stop 
  drawing and painting. Now finally it pays the bills, although that is 
  threatened right now as I had to lam it because of my ‘friend.’
  Rag Rinlap
  Appearance: I am a complacent coin collector. I’m young-looking. 
  I’m wearing tight dark green clergy style garb with gown, a metal 
  ring belt, a waist-length jacket, pants, puffy sleeves, curly toe shoes, 
  brimmed hat, and glasses.
  Portrayal: You have acquired a taste for the finer things in life and 
  have been exposed to the cuisines of a wider world. And you want 
  more. And I want to prevent the bad things happening to innocent 
  people.
  The castle I grew up in is ruined and forgotten, but I sometimes 
  return to reflect on my past.
  Hook: Right now, I want to get healing for my parent. I am boastful 
  and try to one-up others during conversations.
  
  70
   I traveled a great deal as a child and young adult, accompanying 
  my father as he petitioned every baron, lord, or landed knight that 
  would hear him to help him win back his lands and station. My lord 
  father is a ruin like our ancestral home. I need a stack of gold for 
  the potion to cure him, but none of the buyers I know are smart or 
  cultured enough to appreciate the coins I’m trying to unload.
  Rostam Tagg
  Appearance: I am a whiny astronomer. I am always rumpled and 
  untucked. I’m wearing fur-lined black-green noble’s garb with shirt, 
  a coin and beaded belt with fringes, an ankle-length jacket, pants, 
  rolled-up sleeves, low ankle boots, a leather cap, and a sash of 
  braided leather rope. I always carry a battered leather bound brass 
  spyglass.
  Portrayal: I’m always thirsty. I think everybody needs something, 
  and it’s only fair for me profit by providing for those needs.
  Hook: Right now, I want to pay back a money lender but I cannot 
  refuse a game or a gamble. ‘We are all in the gutter, but some of us 
  are looking at the stars.’ Rostam Tagg has been looking to the skies 
  for as long as he can remember. Born in the slums, his drive and 
  natural talent with mathematics and astronomy brought him to the 
  attention of the Stargazer Guild, which took him in and trained him. 
  Rostam has a good reputation as an astronomer but a poor one as an 
  employee. He tends to try and figure out ways to apply astronomy 
  to gambling with decidedly mixed results. He is still looking for that 
  big score, partly to pay off his debts, and is willing to turn his skills 
  to a variety of uses for an adventuring party as long as he gets a cut.
  
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  Sherrick Wiggins
  Appearance: I am a thrifty pawn merchant. I constantly shift my 
  gaze, making eye contact with everyone around me again and again, 
  in rapid succession. I dress extremely well, as though I ran a higher 
  class establishment instead of a pawn shop.
  Portrayal: A hoarder, I call my heaps of assorted junk my treasures. I 
  invent colorful histories for even the most mundane of items. Surely 
  you’ve heard of the Spoon of Sorrows and the Fork of Forgiveness? 
  No? Perhaps a sweater woven from the tri-color Yarn of Yearning 
  will be more to your liking? My eye for the deal knows no mercy.
  Hook: A surprising number of the items in my shop are, indeed, 
  magical, the unfortunate enchantment failures of an arcane academy 
  located not far from the settlement proper. Their effects are anyone’s 
  guess. Buyer beware. Sherrick Wiggins has always collected things, 
  obsessed with patterns and the wonder in the world all around him. 
  Though his friends felt he was wasting his time gathering junk, he 
  has turned his obsession into a successful business selling semi-
  magical curios to travelers.
  Edgar Thatcher
  Appearance: I am a helpless card maker. I have fleas. I’m wearing 
  loose grey laborer’s garb with shirt, a metal ring belt, a cape, long 
  stockings, arm bands, elegant equestrian boots, a mask, and a nose 
  ring.
  Portrayal: I grew up lonely and isolated, so people skills aren’t really 
  my thing. And I believe all people, rich or poor, deserve respect. I 
  
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  have put a man to the sword only to learn later that he was innocent. 
  I will make it up to his family the best that I can.
  Hook: Right now, I want to run away but I hate it when people smile 
  more than they should. Edgar Thatcher was once a nobleman living 
  in the northern district of the city. His fall from grace has left him 
  free of the rigors of aristocratic life, but there remains an emptiness 
  and longing for his lost library.
  For Edgar’s entire life he preferred the company of books to people. 
  He began collecting at an early age. His modest offering included 
  titles like Wily the Whooping Wendigo and epic tales like The Sword-
  Saint and the Green Drake. His proudest volume was ‘The Natural 
  History of Beasts and Flora,’ complete with the rare ‘Appendix A — 
  Beastly Flora.’
  Edgar’s family built a fortune upon textiles. It surprised the city’s 
  affluent when old money was suddenly spent opening a bookbindery. 
  ‘Knowledge will be affordable for once,’ Edgar said. He even opened 
  his private library to the public, provided visitors were vetted as 
  honest and upstanding. After six years a wolfish man named Fervald 
  came smiling to Thatcher Hall, ingratiating himself to Sir Edgar. 
  ‘Ancient Tomes belong in charitable homes, and I know good 
  places to forage,’ he coerced. Edgar was plagued by wild and fancy 
  imaginings for a fortnight. The temptation for a rare read became 
  too much. He commissioned an adventuring party at the behest of 
  Fervald and sent his new-found friend to fetch a fancy folio. Fervald 
  returned with a bloody tome and a grin. ‘Here you are, my friend.’ 
  Edgar’s avarice had seen to it an old man rested in eternal bliss. 
  Ashamed, Edgar abdicated.
  
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  Anelisa
  Appearance: I am a young midwife’s assistant in her late twenties. 
  Slim, pretty but overly serious, and with long blonde hair carefully 
  styled in a bun, I stay in my mistresses shadow, my bright blue eyes 
  missing nothing, however, eager to learn all I can of the healing 
  craft.
  Portrayal: Shy, socially awkward and unassuming, I defer to the 
  wisdom of my mistress at every turn.
  Hook: I am a secret servant of a long forgotten cult, eagerly awaiting 
  the revival of our unholy leader. A birthmark is the sign of his second 
  coming, a mark I just found while helping my mistress deliver our 
  latest baby. Anelisa is an orphan, as far as she knows, her parents 
  put to the sword after a raid on their hidden temple by the forces 
  of good. Forced to flee with only the clothes on her back and wary 
  of being hunted by the victors, she impressed a local midwife with 
  her knowledge of herbalism (having long ago learned the poisonous 
  arts in service to her dark lord) and became her assistant, ironically 
  bringing new life into the world instead of dealing death.
  Hidden in plain sight for years, Anelisa has slowly reached out to 
  try to find other survivors of the cult, as discreetly as possible. Her 
  craft also lets her keep watch for the cult’s leader to be reborn as 
  he had prophesied, a prophecy now come true when she spied the 
  birthmark on the newborn child at her latest assisted birth.
  
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  Morrik
  Appearance: I am a vengeful bounty hunter who wears an iron mask 
  that covers much of my horridly burned face. One of my hands is a 
  jagged hook of blackened steel.
  Portrayal: A dark and dangerous man with a darker reputation, a 
  contract means the target is not wanted alive or at least not alive 
  for long. The more pain he can inflict the better, petty revenge for 
  the harms done to him in the past.
  Hook: The bounty hunter could be sent after a player character or 
  be seeking the same target as the party, resulting in a deadly rivalry. 
  Horribly burnt when the forces of good attacked the hidden temple 
  of the death cult he grew up in, and a falling beam pinned his hand, 
  Morrik escaped only by sawing his own hand off. Filled with rage, 
  he now takes his anger out on his targets.
  Ralt Alful
  Appearance: I am a shady buckle and scabbard maker. I’m nervous, 
  my eyes dart, I wring my hands, and my voice quavers. I’m wearing 
  crude bright merchant’s garb with doublet, a leather girdle, a calf-
  length cloak, knee-length trousers, puffy sleeves, low ankle boots, 
  a leather cap, and a chain and locket.
  Portrayal: I’m obsessive about being perfectly clean and neat. And 
  although I have few qualms about taking advantage of my friends 
  and neighbors, my town or city is my home, and I’ll fight to defend it.
  Hook: Right now, I want a stiff drink but when I drink I display my 
  gallows humor to the point where it makes others uncomfortable. 
  Through great tragedy I once lost those I held most dear. Now I fear 
  
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  they are fading from my memory as well. Formerly a loving family 
  man, the tragic deaths of his wife and only child have robbed him of 
  his once kind and gentle hearted soul. Now unscrupulous and hard 
  hearted, he busies himself with the pursuit of wealth and strong 
  drink. The latter of which has begun to show some effect on his 
  abilities as a buckle and scabbard maker. Despite the growing effects 
  of alcohol, he has managed to maintain his obsession with keeping 
  himself and his workshop perfectly clean and neat. He also possesses 
  a magical locket that almost always hangs around his neck. The 
  locket enables him to view memories of his wife and child. However, 
  once the locket is closed any viewed memories are lost to the locket 
  and can only be reviewed when the locket is reopened. Due to this 
  fact, he can now remember little of the time he spent with his wife 
  and daughter, which troubles him greatly though he is unaware the 
  locket is to blame.
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/_GM Books/3_Line_NPC_Compendium.pdf