Description: An older man who tends to wear a heavy leather apron. Coupled with his rolled up shirt sleeves this gives him a very relaxed look, he is not a threatening figure. He has dyed his greying white hair a little too much giving a sharp white color. His eyes are brown and he is always smoking a pipe.

Personality: He will rave to anyone who will listen. He is kind towards other men and children and will generally offer men help without question. Others will generally need to prove themselves to him.

History: He was born blind and as such lacked many opportunities for work. Cursed with lycanthropy at a very young age, Beloril has worked very hard to control his curse. He knows his nephew is from a royal line that had remained secret for centuries, but promised not to tell anyone. So far, no-one knows but him.

Motivation: Meet up once more with his childhood friend; and he desires power and/or immortality

Ideals: Philantrophist. Flaws: Insane, Disease. Bonds: Rich, Adventurer. Occupation: Sculptor

Voice: Smooth and feminine

Possessions: Just what you see.

Description: He is bundled in multiple layers and is prepared for a desert trek wearing a turban that covers his face most of the time. He carries a battered ceremonial dagger and tarnished shortspear as well. His silver hair is braided into rings. His voice is smooth and creepy, always level, but somehow just slightly unnerving.

Personality: He likes to make people angry or surprised. Only to laugh say gotcha and shoot double pistol fingers at the fooled target.

History: He was born a particularly ugly child, much to the horror of his parents. His parents divorced when he was young, and his mother gained full cudstody. He was regularly beaten by his mother, who blamed him for driving them apart. He was recently attacked on the road and savagely beaten by bandits.

Motivation: To fight the greatest warriors and to fight in the greatest battles ever.

Ideals: Fighting, Joker. Flaws: Insane, Antagonistic, Ugly. Occupation: Miner

Voice: Breathy voice

Possessions: 10 pp.

Description: A woman with a friendly, welcoming air about her, she typically wears white cloth garments or leather armor. She has wavy red hair. Her brown eyes dart from person to person.

Personality: She has always had a great fascination with Half-Orc culture. She uses her nature as a weapon; she likes to lead opponents to think her in distress.

History: Sold as a small child to a wizard, Ubada was an assistant, and all too frequently test subject. She eventually earned her freedom when her former master disappeared. As a young adult she joined a group advocating for an improvement in Half-Orc conditions. She became a Barkeep soon after.

Motivation: She loathes her own lifestyle; and balancing her hectic life and new barkeep responsibilities is difficult

Flaws: Racist, Secretive, Depressed. Bonds: Mentor, Job. Occupation: Barkeep

Voice: Cold and demanding tone

Possessions: 600 sp. Black velvet mask with numerous citrines (180 gp).

Description: The dark-skinned man stands 5'0" and wears a yellow vest and prefers blue and brown shirts. His boots appear to have been at one point steel toed but are quite worn down. His golden hair is well kept and his bushy mustache is tapered upwards at the ends. His voice is smooth and creepy, always level, but somehow just slightly unnerving.

Personality: He likes to fabricate stories about his past exploits and how crazy he is, but in actuality he is rather bland. He believes the world needs to unite to get rid of giants once and for all.

History: He was born several months after his mother was called into army service. While he appears to be a normal Half-Elf, he's... not quite right. Perhaps he's slightly insane, or otherwise so mentally alien to the rest of the world that he plain doesn't fit in. He was recently attacked on the road and savagely beaten by bandits.

Motivation: To find somewhere to settle down.

Flaws: Ugly, Insane, Mundane. Bonds: Enemies, Military. Occupation: Engraver

Voice: Speaks fast with a slight lisp

Possessions: 140 gp.