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loneknight2024-11-20 08:42 am
taichara) wrote in loneknight2024-11-20 08:42 am
Entry tags:
some NPC thumbnails for Lindwyrm
These folks are from Wandering Wayfarers ~
❧ Human
Rhyn Vare: Pinched, with tangled hair and tattered cloak; but his clothing is surprisingly fine. He claims to have moon-silver to offer for a knife in a local worthy's back.
Tabith: Sometimes leading a string of horses to market, others berating a fool's treatment of their beast; at all times d sporting a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
Rana Owlsight: They're quiet, always have been; they drift from shrine to temple, leaving small offerings. Rana searches for the god that “blessed” them at birth with foresight.
Veleren: The tinkling of bells announces Veleren; bells sewn to their shawls, to the hem of their cloak. And all come from far and wide to see them dance and hear their tales.
Defrith Smithwight: Defrith's strong hands handle woodwork and mending. And as she crafts and mends, she speaks to someone who cannot be seen.
Iason Sablet: Stiff-spined, aloof, arrogant, his perfectly-formed features seem chiseled from stone. Iason detests being surrounded by “lessers” – he detests injustice even more.
❧ Ratfolk
Tikrit: Tall for ratfolk and brawny, with moss-green pelt and a notched ear and a cheerful, easygoing nature. She's thinking it might be time to give the warhen she rides an honourable retirement.
Chaa: Sleek black coat; rare indeed. They brush off all questions as unimportant unless involving illness or emergency stitching – they'll talk your ear off then while pressing poultices into your hand or fetching their needles.
Pekk Bobtail: Brindled viridian and white under a lovingly-maintained oil cape and broad-brimmed hat; please don't call attention to his tail. Pekk deals in chapbooks and messages and gossip.
Akri Earth-Drover: Leafy green, pink-eyed, and proud of his family’s Golden Sunwing chickens (best for stewing, best for pillows!); maybe in too much debt over his own flock.
Nikpa: They've seen it all, Nikpa has. Now their grizzled-moss pelt is thinning and they'd rather raise warhens in peace – but a clash against the Black River will stir their old bones.
Sersek: All good things come to an end, even beloved chickens. Sersek's fur is threaded with bone beads; and if it's beads you're looking for, or fine bone needles, or death-rituals, she's your crafter.
❧ Elf
Orulaia Thornwind: The rows of amber studs lining Orulaia's ears mark their scholarship at the Ambrine Towers, each pair a century. They have dozens of manuscripts to their name, a sage of sun-sigils and warding glyphs.
Asheyi Elian: A living ghost, hair shocked colourless by kin and barrow-glade reduced to black dust. Searching for the source of the scourge, for an end to the nightmares.
Eruve Willowbite: Warden of wild spaces and patient stalker of those who find themselves lost in the darkling forest. Few see her sharp features or twining tattoos; many see the white arrowshot leading them to safety.
Iririn Dahai: Haunter of salons, scriptoria and sacred circles alike, Iririn lurks and titters to himself, runs magic-stained fingers over his docked ears like he does any tomes he finds, and giggles, and giggles.
Moon-Dark Amri: Dowsing and dream-reading. Finding that crock lost last summer, or the blessed blade that chooses the emperor. All these small mysteries that are so very big come to roost at Amri's ancient feet, and she smiles.
Cururai Riverchase: Sword-poet , once companion to fallen lords, Cururai lives a freesword life now. Their kin and clan would dearly love them, and their secrets, returned.
❧ Mech
Main-Stalwart: Rugged and rust-flecked, her body a patchwork of metal mementos of places seen and companions lost. A fount of knowledge of many places and peoples.
Tamtam: Disconnected and dreamy, an eerie contrast to the countless tiny holes that riddle their body. Idly seeking something called the Forever Stone, but doesn't remember why.
Cobalt: Appears more armoured than he is, but the sculpted metal can't hide his boyish enthusiasm for alchemy, natural science, and even household maintenance. Would like to see more of the world.
Fortuna: Wears a dozen faces, or at least that many tweaks to her body, all in the name of keeping attention away from the contraband and stranger things she smuggles concealed inside. Friendly, not trustworthy.
Hunter: Is exactly what their name says, a hunter – of spellcasters, relentless and unbending. Ragged scorch-scars blackened one eye dead. They'll share news if aided in their goal in any way.
Morning-Glory: Has filled himself with, not tools nor armour nor shining things, but with greenery; roses and clover, marigold and herbs. Generous with produce, plant lore and time.
❧ Orc
Sevash Hunak: Aspiring sorcerer-priest, already sporting the first of many steel studs in his flesh. His current focus is forgotten gods, and he will offer service in return for new lore.
Kutallak: Driven and prone to black moods, a smith specializing in unusual alloys. Scarred by forge accidents and a scattering of old injuries that look delivered by blade, not molten metal. Will talk shop, offer tips, and is always interested in samples of new metals.
Nurash White-Eye: Scion of a high guild, proud of their lineage but not quite to the point of arrogance. (yet.) Traveling the world with sword and sidearm to report back to their guild-kin what they experience.
Bakunan Vos: Broad-shouldered, Bakunan stands watch over her charges – implanters to incarnates – with equal and bombastic aplomb, glasscaster in strong bronze hands.
Doruk Tesh: Delicate clockworks spring to life in Doruk's clever hands; whether clocks or locks, puzzles or magery-calendars, they can and have forged them all. Their patience is immeasurable as their precision.
Quarik Ren: Not metal, but glass is her mastery, ground into a dizzying array of lenses and foci intended to reveal all. Quarik values truth above all things; her philosophy, as much as her vowed dedication.
❧ Beastfolk
Mara Silverwish: Patient and motherly, Mara is known for her baking and her ability to lead folks to the best bramble patches around. Threaten her charges, and a badger has things to say about it.
Hound: He's tossed away any other name, just like everything else – it gets in the way of tracking the bloody-handed and their victims. The violent fear the brindled, snarling Hound.
Jory: Quick on their feet and quicker in the air. Jory is a messenger by trade, toting anything that fits in the silvery cylinder sized perfectly for a crow's clawed foot.
Brazen Tom: Called so not for his temperament – Tom's a phlegmatic sort – but for the colour of his oxhide as this small-merchant pulls his own wagon with his own strength. His circuit is familiar, his wares needed notions.
Dena Blackhart: Dena walks the forests and meadow-edges lightly, plucking wild forage to barter to villagers; known as the shy hermit of the woods. They don't know she lures hunters to their deaths in deer-shape, pitiless.
Fantasia: Fantasia used to pretend to be a simple beast, slipping into corrals to play pranks. But such a fine steed caught the eye of the king – and oh what Fantasia's learned. But how to act on it? Or escape, for that matter?
❧ Dwarf
Rannach: Grim, but not unfriendly; but the pall of loss hangs over him as heavy as the ironwool cloak around his shoulders. Rannach carries a pouch of seed-gems from his fallen delvehold's mine and seeks to set his dead to rest.
Cor Brunnan: Fiery and feisty as the lava tubes she scouts for, hair wrapped up tight while she plumbs for the earth's fire. Delvelords pay well for a new forge tap; and Cor likes to tempt fate.
Lai Lannir: His hair and beard are white as gypsum now, but Lai's still spry, travelling from hold to delve to hall with his prisms and measuring cords, his charts and half-drafted plans. He'll set a place straight.
Taven Kurru: Envoy to the surface, and bearer of its strange bounty to the court of their lord. Calm and diplomatic, ready with an offer of aid or a chiding tap of their history-etched hammer.
Penno Fracture: Penno is sure she'll never live down the accident that gave her her “title”. But it doesn't matter! Not when ever since she's placed every last facet with perfect precision, thank you!
Memna Varrun: Memna knows how stone thinks. How it needs to be coaxed to give up the riches it holds, sweet-talked and offered to – or so they say to the gullible surface miners who come looking for guidance.
❧ Dhampir
Carmine: Smiling and sensuous, they play the role of the forbidden temptation well – and pass along the knowledge of the real threats to their community to those who can act openly.
Loraeth Dusk: His near-silence when he comes into town or meets with guest on behalf of his unliving sire does not quite hide the rare flicker of discontent in dead eyes, despite all his finery.
Faehalla: With skin streaked with scars, Faehalla seeks to ease guilt over her existence by serving as confessor and scapegoat to any who need to unburden themselves.
Lucien: They look the part of the exorcist-hunter, with blessed talismans and silvered blades and all the rest; and hunt the dead they do. But most of all they hunt the betrayer who drove their mother to monstrousness.
Vorhaen Ruven: A simple apothecary, or so she claims, keeping her heritage – and her connection to a long-extinct lineage of note – as hidden as the real reason she occasionally asks blood samples of her customers.
Lord Shadow: Arrogant and complacent. A “lord of the night” built on lies, using his looks and gifts to convince the gullible he’s a true vampire; and one to be revered, no less.
❧ Esper
Loni Bright: Brilliant orange hair; maybe it's a stereotype that he's very much interested in all sources of, or texts about, fire-centric talents. Maybe a little too eager, even, but he pays well.
Kurmaya: Her first talent was a rotting touch and she’s never gotten over that trauma. She schooled herself into farseeing, but is wary of her ability. Skittish but thorough.
Zevri Aya: Has plumbed the depths of their talent over the years; there is no one who sets those wards against the depths as well, and so elegantly, in leagues. They accept no payment from the truly needy.
Gentian Snow: Can speak to beasts and touch their minds, and refuses to eat flesh because of it. She carries distressed or wounded creatures, soothing them, and offers helpful words to any passing by.
Zafan Plumar: Condescending, contemptuous of both those without inborn power and those not born into power. Infuriated that his own talent is literally cosmetic; takes this out on others by degrading their clothing.
Merril: Shocked to their core, convinced they encountered a radiant being who promised to unlock a multitude of gifts – and not just for them – if Merril can find their physical shell. Half-sure it was a dream, but seeking anyway.
❧ Damned
Rirai Nightlark: Appears to be a tavern tough, technically hired to be a tavern tough, but that's not all, oh no. They do so enjoy hexing a cheating gambler at just the right moment.
Mekli Danna: Discovering the source of his family's good fortune – and the brand on his palm, his strange gifts – was not good for Mekli. Now he's fled with treasures and secrets, desperate for aid against his kin.
Sworn Pyi: Brimstone eyes close as the hymn begins, a perennially bloody mouth lifts voice in praise; because Pyi knows that her wretched ancestor be, indeed, damned – her faith is unwavering, and her grace extends to others.
Agate: The devil's luck? If you must; Agate shrugs off all accusations with a sharp-toothed smile as he carries back his barrow bounty time and again, avoiding traps and terrors.
The Mourning One: They appear at crossroads, bloody tears tracing their cheeks. They are ancient beyond words, and know many things; but their master sets the price.
Golden Ushan: She promises vengeance alongside a warm doss and a good meal and an evening of listening to her praise her lady of gold – the one who raised her up, who made her stronger. Wouldn't you like to have the same?
Rhyn Vare: Pinched, with tangled hair and tattered cloak; but his clothing is surprisingly fine. He claims to have moon-silver to offer for a knife in a local worthy's back.
Tabith: Sometimes leading a string of horses to market, others berating a fool's treatment of their beast; at all times d sporting a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
Rana Owlsight: They're quiet, always have been; they drift from shrine to temple, leaving small offerings. Rana searches for the god that “blessed” them at birth with foresight.
Veleren: The tinkling of bells announces Veleren; bells sewn to their shawls, to the hem of their cloak. And all come from far and wide to see them dance and hear their tales.
Defrith Smithwight: Defrith's strong hands handle woodwork and mending. And as she crafts and mends, she speaks to someone who cannot be seen.
Iason Sablet: Stiff-spined, aloof, arrogant, his perfectly-formed features seem chiseled from stone. Iason detests being surrounded by “lessers” – he detests injustice even more.
❧ Ratfolk
Tikrit: Tall for ratfolk and brawny, with moss-green pelt and a notched ear and a cheerful, easygoing nature. She's thinking it might be time to give the warhen she rides an honourable retirement.
Chaa: Sleek black coat; rare indeed. They brush off all questions as unimportant unless involving illness or emergency stitching – they'll talk your ear off then while pressing poultices into your hand or fetching their needles.
Pekk Bobtail: Brindled viridian and white under a lovingly-maintained oil cape and broad-brimmed hat; please don't call attention to his tail. Pekk deals in chapbooks and messages and gossip.
Akri Earth-Drover: Leafy green, pink-eyed, and proud of his family’s Golden Sunwing chickens (best for stewing, best for pillows!); maybe in too much debt over his own flock.
Nikpa: They've seen it all, Nikpa has. Now their grizzled-moss pelt is thinning and they'd rather raise warhens in peace – but a clash against the Black River will stir their old bones.
Sersek: All good things come to an end, even beloved chickens. Sersek's fur is threaded with bone beads; and if it's beads you're looking for, or fine bone needles, or death-rituals, she's your crafter.
❧ Elf
Orulaia Thornwind: The rows of amber studs lining Orulaia's ears mark their scholarship at the Ambrine Towers, each pair a century. They have dozens of manuscripts to their name, a sage of sun-sigils and warding glyphs.
Asheyi Elian: A living ghost, hair shocked colourless by kin and barrow-glade reduced to black dust. Searching for the source of the scourge, for an end to the nightmares.
Eruve Willowbite: Warden of wild spaces and patient stalker of those who find themselves lost in the darkling forest. Few see her sharp features or twining tattoos; many see the white arrowshot leading them to safety.
Iririn Dahai: Haunter of salons, scriptoria and sacred circles alike, Iririn lurks and titters to himself, runs magic-stained fingers over his docked ears like he does any tomes he finds, and giggles, and giggles.
Moon-Dark Amri: Dowsing and dream-reading. Finding that crock lost last summer, or the blessed blade that chooses the emperor. All these small mysteries that are so very big come to roost at Amri's ancient feet, and she smiles.
Cururai Riverchase: Sword-poet , once companion to fallen lords, Cururai lives a freesword life now. Their kin and clan would dearly love them, and their secrets, returned.
❧ Mech
Main-Stalwart: Rugged and rust-flecked, her body a patchwork of metal mementos of places seen and companions lost. A fount of knowledge of many places and peoples.
Tamtam: Disconnected and dreamy, an eerie contrast to the countless tiny holes that riddle their body. Idly seeking something called the Forever Stone, but doesn't remember why.
Cobalt: Appears more armoured than he is, but the sculpted metal can't hide his boyish enthusiasm for alchemy, natural science, and even household maintenance. Would like to see more of the world.
Fortuna: Wears a dozen faces, or at least that many tweaks to her body, all in the name of keeping attention away from the contraband and stranger things she smuggles concealed inside. Friendly, not trustworthy.
Hunter: Is exactly what their name says, a hunter – of spellcasters, relentless and unbending. Ragged scorch-scars blackened one eye dead. They'll share news if aided in their goal in any way.
Morning-Glory: Has filled himself with, not tools nor armour nor shining things, but with greenery; roses and clover, marigold and herbs. Generous with produce, plant lore and time.
❧ Orc
Sevash Hunak: Aspiring sorcerer-priest, already sporting the first of many steel studs in his flesh. His current focus is forgotten gods, and he will offer service in return for new lore.
Kutallak: Driven and prone to black moods, a smith specializing in unusual alloys. Scarred by forge accidents and a scattering of old injuries that look delivered by blade, not molten metal. Will talk shop, offer tips, and is always interested in samples of new metals.
Nurash White-Eye: Scion of a high guild, proud of their lineage but not quite to the point of arrogance. (yet.) Traveling the world with sword and sidearm to report back to their guild-kin what they experience.
Bakunan Vos: Broad-shouldered, Bakunan stands watch over her charges – implanters to incarnates – with equal and bombastic aplomb, glasscaster in strong bronze hands.
Doruk Tesh: Delicate clockworks spring to life in Doruk's clever hands; whether clocks or locks, puzzles or magery-calendars, they can and have forged them all. Their patience is immeasurable as their precision.
Quarik Ren: Not metal, but glass is her mastery, ground into a dizzying array of lenses and foci intended to reveal all. Quarik values truth above all things; her philosophy, as much as her vowed dedication.
❧ Beastfolk
Mara Silverwish: Patient and motherly, Mara is known for her baking and her ability to lead folks to the best bramble patches around. Threaten her charges, and a badger has things to say about it.
Hound: He's tossed away any other name, just like everything else – it gets in the way of tracking the bloody-handed and their victims. The violent fear the brindled, snarling Hound.
Jory: Quick on their feet and quicker in the air. Jory is a messenger by trade, toting anything that fits in the silvery cylinder sized perfectly for a crow's clawed foot.
Brazen Tom: Called so not for his temperament – Tom's a phlegmatic sort – but for the colour of his oxhide as this small-merchant pulls his own wagon with his own strength. His circuit is familiar, his wares needed notions.
Dena Blackhart: Dena walks the forests and meadow-edges lightly, plucking wild forage to barter to villagers; known as the shy hermit of the woods. They don't know she lures hunters to their deaths in deer-shape, pitiless.
Fantasia: Fantasia used to pretend to be a simple beast, slipping into corrals to play pranks. But such a fine steed caught the eye of the king – and oh what Fantasia's learned. But how to act on it? Or escape, for that matter?
❧ Dwarf
Rannach: Grim, but not unfriendly; but the pall of loss hangs over him as heavy as the ironwool cloak around his shoulders. Rannach carries a pouch of seed-gems from his fallen delvehold's mine and seeks to set his dead to rest.
Cor Brunnan: Fiery and feisty as the lava tubes she scouts for, hair wrapped up tight while she plumbs for the earth's fire. Delvelords pay well for a new forge tap; and Cor likes to tempt fate.
Lai Lannir: His hair and beard are white as gypsum now, but Lai's still spry, travelling from hold to delve to hall with his prisms and measuring cords, his charts and half-drafted plans. He'll set a place straight.
Taven Kurru: Envoy to the surface, and bearer of its strange bounty to the court of their lord. Calm and diplomatic, ready with an offer of aid or a chiding tap of their history-etched hammer.
Penno Fracture: Penno is sure she'll never live down the accident that gave her her “title”. But it doesn't matter! Not when ever since she's placed every last facet with perfect precision, thank you!
Memna Varrun: Memna knows how stone thinks. How it needs to be coaxed to give up the riches it holds, sweet-talked and offered to – or so they say to the gullible surface miners who come looking for guidance.
❧ Dhampir
Carmine: Smiling and sensuous, they play the role of the forbidden temptation well – and pass along the knowledge of the real threats to their community to those who can act openly.
Loraeth Dusk: His near-silence when he comes into town or meets with guest on behalf of his unliving sire does not quite hide the rare flicker of discontent in dead eyes, despite all his finery.
Faehalla: With skin streaked with scars, Faehalla seeks to ease guilt over her existence by serving as confessor and scapegoat to any who need to unburden themselves.
Lucien: They look the part of the exorcist-hunter, with blessed talismans and silvered blades and all the rest; and hunt the dead they do. But most of all they hunt the betrayer who drove their mother to monstrousness.
Vorhaen Ruven: A simple apothecary, or so she claims, keeping her heritage – and her connection to a long-extinct lineage of note – as hidden as the real reason she occasionally asks blood samples of her customers.
Lord Shadow: Arrogant and complacent. A “lord of the night” built on lies, using his looks and gifts to convince the gullible he’s a true vampire; and one to be revered, no less.
❧ Esper
Loni Bright: Brilliant orange hair; maybe it's a stereotype that he's very much interested in all sources of, or texts about, fire-centric talents. Maybe a little too eager, even, but he pays well.
Kurmaya: Her first talent was a rotting touch and she’s never gotten over that trauma. She schooled herself into farseeing, but is wary of her ability. Skittish but thorough.
Zevri Aya: Has plumbed the depths of their talent over the years; there is no one who sets those wards against the depths as well, and so elegantly, in leagues. They accept no payment from the truly needy.
Gentian Snow: Can speak to beasts and touch their minds, and refuses to eat flesh because of it. She carries distressed or wounded creatures, soothing them, and offers helpful words to any passing by.
Zafan Plumar: Condescending, contemptuous of both those without inborn power and those not born into power. Infuriated that his own talent is literally cosmetic; takes this out on others by degrading their clothing.
Merril: Shocked to their core, convinced they encountered a radiant being who promised to unlock a multitude of gifts – and not just for them – if Merril can find their physical shell. Half-sure it was a dream, but seeking anyway.
❧ Damned
Rirai Nightlark: Appears to be a tavern tough, technically hired to be a tavern tough, but that's not all, oh no. They do so enjoy hexing a cheating gambler at just the right moment.
Mekli Danna: Discovering the source of his family's good fortune – and the brand on his palm, his strange gifts – was not good for Mekli. Now he's fled with treasures and secrets, desperate for aid against his kin.
Sworn Pyi: Brimstone eyes close as the hymn begins, a perennially bloody mouth lifts voice in praise; because Pyi knows that her wretched ancestor be, indeed, damned – her faith is unwavering, and her grace extends to others.
Agate: The devil's luck? If you must; Agate shrugs off all accusations with a sharp-toothed smile as he carries back his barrow bounty time and again, avoiding traps and terrors.
The Mourning One: They appear at crossroads, bloody tears tracing their cheeks. They are ancient beyond words, and know many things; but their master sets the price.
Golden Ushan: She promises vengeance alongside a warm doss and a good meal and an evening of listening to her praise her lady of gold – the one who raised her up, who made her stronger. Wouldn't you like to have the same?
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