Description: This man wears a worn and beaten armor, and sports empty pouches on his belt. Sporting a red mohawk and bushy mustache this man's hair draws a lot of attention. His amber eyes dart from person to person to random spaces in the air.

Personality: Riardon speaks confidently about a variety of topics with grace. He is clearly well-traveled and educated. He does suffer from mild PTSD, and the sight of giants may trigger it at times.

History: His parents moved while he was still in utero so he is the first generation to be born here. He was part of a huge silver rush, which was taken over by a mining company. The company confiscated a lot of silver, but the shipment was lost. He moves from town to town, unable to find a place to settle.

Motivation: Meet up once more with his childhood friend; and obtaining odd cultural half-orc artifacts is his passion

Ideals: Impeccable. Flaws: Insane. Bonds: Enemies, Immigrant, Adventurer. Occupation: Apothecary

Voice: Squeaky

Possessions: 30 gp.

Description: Relatively heavier built than your average man, he is not imposing. He wears clothing that is held on in multiple layers but all of it is in poor condition. With a patchy auburn beard and wild auburn hair. His hazel eyes dart from person to person to random spaces in the air.

Personality: He is a pretentious jerk insisting that modern society is full of problems and should revert to a simpler time. He seeks to pay back kindness whenever he gets the chance. Whether it be in the form of unwanted serenades or the latest gossip he always seeks to do solids for his friends.

History: Born the oldest of a large religious northern family, he was no stranger to responsibility. Being born in the north, he completed his medical training abroad so as to avoid the war. He returned after the war having achieved medical proficiency. He was a general practitioner in the north for years, until he, through no fault of his own, lost a patient who had a very powerful family. Rather than risk reprisal he made his way south. He used his abilities to travel the world and help people.

Motivation: His religion dominates his actions; and his relatives are trying to arrange a marriage

Ideals: Philantrophist. Flaws: Antagonistic. Bonds: Poor, Religious, Family. Occupation: Merchant

Voice: Indian accent

Possessions: 800 sp.

Description: He is an average looking southern male in his early mid-life. He wears light armors faded through time and improper care. He has done his best to style his black hair to look like a famous performer. His gray eyes dart from person to person to random spaces in the air.

Personality: He is extraordinarily eccentric. He passes on several rewards to people in need. He makes a point to leave places better than he found them.

History: Travok was born in the south. At a young age he loved to build and create. He moved from fad to fad and when he turned 15 he discovered writing. He has never given up on his writing dream.

Motivation: He is not mentally stable, and does not behave rationally; and he desires power and/or immortality

Ideals: Philantrophist, Persistence, Artistic. Flaws: Insane. Occupation: Doctor

Voice: Hissing voice

Possessions: 150 gp.

Description: He is a pot bellied eastern man with a big hulking figure and broad shoulders. He is typically in his Scribe uniform. His crest is greying and his face has many wrinkles. His gold eyes lackadaisically let the world flow into them.

Personality: He is very quiet and rarely speaks above a whisper. He cannot deal with unfamiliar people for more than a few minutes at a time and if they persist he will grow angry at them.

History: He was born to a wealthy landowner in a frontier town, living a normal and happy childhood. He was one of the best in his class, and was picked up by his current employer. He quickly showed his capability and was soon promoted to a head role. He then took over the family business and is one of the better Scribe for hire.

Motivation: He's repulsed by the PC.

Ideals: Athletic. Flaws: Shy, Antagonistic. Bonds: Job, Rich. Occupation: Scribe

Voice: Smoker's lung

Possessions: 60 gp. 1 Simple lock.