In the vein of the encounter thread, it's time to flex your storytelling muscles with some quick NPC sketches.
The rules:
We start with a category of NPC (tavern keeper, fence, foil, etc..) and a few questions to fill in. Answer by filling in the blanks. If the thread rolls over to a new page, and no one has beaten you to it, you can set up a new NPC category/questionnaire to be filled in.
Starting NPC:
A Shrine Keeper
Answer me this:
Name?
What was her life before the priesthood?
Why did she reject her former ambitions for a life of shrine-maintenance?
How does she disagree with her order even now?
Sample answer:
Lassandra Borror, a shrine keeper of Heironeous
Life before the priesthood:
Lassandra worked alongside her brothers and sisters tilling the family farm until her entire village was razed by the Broke-Jaw orc band. The orphaned Lassandra joined a group of Irregulars amongst the refugees and fought back.
Why did she give it all up?
Lassandra came to be disgusted with the rebellion after seeing orcish village after orcish village decimated in the backlash. She now tends the shrine at the Hilltop of Cairdelan, where the decisive battle took place; the one which she believes should have been the last rather than the series of revenge-slaughters that followed. She runs her own shrine to exalt the god in the way she sees fit, rather than confronting her fellow priests.
How does she disagree with her own order today?
Lassandra has taken in more than a dozen orphans of the slaughtered orcish villages, and trained them in combat. She believes that their violent urges can be channeled for good, and has one great success to her credit: Melik (Orc, Samurai 9). Not all of her students have lived up to her ideals, however. In particular, it is her secret shame to know that she gave first training to Kulg the Slayer (Orc, Monk 8/Assassin 2) prior to his abandonment of her teachings. Kulg now travels the land seeking revenge for the death of his clan, and while other priests of Heironeous hunt him, Lassandra hopes to return him to the side of justice, and keeps secret her prior involvment as she sends Melik out to track him.
This looks like fun. . . :)
My answer:
Onris "Floptop" Bedreater, keeper of the Shine of 12 Scabs, atop the howling festerhill, near the Madhouse, Plane of Pandemonium
Life before the priesthood:
Old Floptop was once an adventurer, before the maddning rot took ahold of him and left the top half of his head nothing but a fleshy ruin. Frankly, he can't remember much else about how he ended up in Pandemonium, but he thinks it has something to do with the winds, or as he calls them, the "hell farts."
Why did he give it all up?
Old Flattop likes to pick at things (especially his own head), and makes serious attempts ot get others to do so. He laid down his sword, and vowed to pick away every citizen's scab in the town of Madhouse, believing that the sacred flow of blood will cleanse him and them of their madness. He built a shine to house all of his pickings, atop the highest hill overlooking the town,
How does hr disagree with his own order today?
Unfortunately, he has trouble securing the sacred bits that tend to get piled pretty high between hurricane gusts. The folk of the city are wise to keep an ear out, so they can hear the his wailing on the winds. To them, it's always a signal that his collection is about to fall on the town like snowflakes. Many have tried to reason with him, but he swears that one day the Demon of the 12 Scabs will return to lick his wounds clean and restore the town to pristine glory. If taken by force, he is somewhat belligerent, and has caused a few fresh wounds to appear on himself and others. Later of course, he makes amends by offering to pick off the coverings of any damage he has caused. Needless to say, old Flattop's position is precarious, and the city council of The Madhouse often spends their time drunkenly debating the fesability of his claims.
My answer:
Onris "Floptop" Bedreater, keeper of the Shine of 12 Scabs, atop the howling festerhill, near the Madhouse, Plane of Pandemonium
I love this answer.
Threnody the Mourningstar
She was one of the most promising students in the elven bard college, her beautiful alto voice would make her teachers weep and bring shivers to all who witnessed her phenomonal range.
But she began to sing the names of fallen elves in her sleep - it disturbed her parents and family - especially when she began to sing a litany of fallen elves that lasted three days. When she awoke she began to weep and has yet to stop, sixty-three years later. She left the college and joined the mysterious church of Sehanine Moonbow in order to further the goals of the Lady of Dreams.
She now makes her home at Luminous Rest, the island graveyard of the elves, and against the orders of her church she commissions young knights to seek out the lost children of the elves (all those elves trapped in the Outer Planes, fell curses, or undead) in order to bring them home to be buried in the consecrated ground of Luminous Rest. The problem is that many of these young knights end up as lost children themselves.
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Bill, the groom
He was born to a groom and died as such. He never did anything of importance.
He did, however, took care of the horses of famous heroes, which brought their riders to the fields of battle and to fantastic locations, where they changed the face of Bill's world forever (not that Bill took any notice at all).
The horses know him, and love him, because he's an expert in his field of work! But who did ever mind to ask his horse.
That's all there is to say about Bill, unless someone is rolling up stats for him...
Oh man, I am so tired... ;)
I just remembered that this BBS doesn't roll over to new pages except for every 50 posts.
Feel free to put up a new new NPC-blank to be filled in after 5 or more people have answered the last one.
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I just remembered that this BBS doesn't roll over to new pages except for every 50 posts.
Feel free to put up a new new NPC-blank to be filled in after 5 or more people have answered the last one.
What does BBS mean? And, as I am german, I didn't get your second sentence! Didn't want to offend your thread!
What does BBS mean? And, as I am german, I didn't get your second sentence! Didn't want to offend your thread!I just remembered that this BBS doesn't roll over to new pages except for every 50 posts.
Feel free to put up a new new NPC-blank to be filled in after 5 or more people have answered the last one.
Entschuldige.
Bulletin Board System - a pre-internet name for forums such as this.
Next NPC:
Craftperson
Name?
Where do they ply their craft?
Tell me about their apprenticeship.
What was (or will be) their masterwork item?
What secret(s) do they know about another member of their guild?
Name?
Xyl'Alik, Bonecarver
Where do they ply their craft?
Xen'drik (Eberron)
Tell me about their apprenticeship.
Alik apprenticed under his uncle Xyl'Hasim, learning the delicate craft of recording spells in the surfaces of the bones of his clients' fallen enemies.
What was (or will be) their masterwork item?
Though many wizards of Xen'drik credit Alik with a bonecarved staff or a necklace of spellcarved fingerbones of rare beauty, all would agree that his masterwork are The Gates of Kultu'Hamat. Carved from the ribs of a fallen storm giant, the glyphs thereon tell the tale of the rise of the city of Kultu'Hamat, exalt its rulers, and hint at a prophesied destiny to come. The gates are formed from the lashed rib pairs, and vault over the narrowest ends of both sides of the mountain pass that the city sits amidst, so that all merchants passing through read the tale thereon.
What secret(s) do they know about another member of their guild?
Alik knows that Tial'Hilat, venerated elder of his guild, has begun to cry out in his sleep. Taken as progressive dementia by the younger drow of the guild, the cries are discounted by all but Alik, who has fastidiously recorded them since becoming caretaker for the aging master bonecarver. Over the last 12 years, he has collected them onto a tight-carved stringer of tibia, and though he cannot understand their meaning, notes regular patterns in the utterances. He knows of his guildmaster's trips to Argonessen centuries back, and wonders if that might be connected with this. In the last week, Hilat has taken to sleeping soundly through the whole of the night. While other guildmates comment that the ancient drow looks healthier than he has in centuries, Alik senses that the light has gone out from behind his eyes and knows the end is near.
Name?
Gurd Damash, orcish smith
Where do they ply their craft?
A lone shop at the foot of the Nether Mountains, a day's hike south of Sundabar in the Silver Marches, Faerun.
Tell me about their apprenticeship.
Gurd came to notice at an early age, when his master's smithy was invaded by an infuriated Obould Many-Arrows, not yet king at that time. Obould demanded that the shop, like all other buildings of the city, turn out its residents to join his northbound horde. All complied, save Gurd, who received the honor of having his face shattered by a gauntleted backfist from the infuriated warlord. Gurd continued his smithing uninterrupted, to the amazement of all present, an hour later presenting Obould with a single perfect scimitar. Obould pardoned the apprentice smith, and come the next morning, Gurd was the only resident of the camp left as the army rode away. The scimitar was given from Obould to his lieutenant who used it for years following until he fell in battle. The story is told to this day among Obould's clan as a testament to singleminded determination.
Never officially recognized as a master, Gurd lives apart from the rest of orcish civilization, his depopulated camp never reclaimed by the survivors of that battle. He has been silent since that day, the jumbled bones of his face healed into a jigsaw nightmare. He wakes each morning, and sets to smithing whatever comes into his head. He cannot be commissioned, or commanded, and is as likely to spend the day forging a 12-place-setting dinnerware set sized to gnomish hands as he is to make a war-axe. His work has come to be known in far away Waterdeep, where its rustic style and flawless utility have made it an underground sensation among art collectors and eccentrics. Apprentices come and go in his shop, their only recognition by the master being that he chooses them to work alongside him, or takes a hammer from them midswing to correct their work. He grants no titles, acknowledges no graduation, and offers no comments, merely using each for so long as they stay in his tent and work at his side. Though claiming to be an apprentice of Gurd carries little weight, the Master-Apprentice's own work (for his own Apprenticeship has never been officially ended) is some of the most highly sought iron in the west of Faerun.
What was (or will be) their masterwork item?
Gurd follows his own internal drive, and each piece he makes is perfect for some purpose, it seems, if only it can find its way to the person for whom it was crafted. Gurd crafts what he sees need for, and while it may be no more his masterwork than the lantern frame he hammered out this morning, the story told amongst his apprentices as his most remarkable work yet is that of a beholder on death's door that, deflated and unable to fly, dragged itself to Gurd's tent by its eyestalks and raw determination. Gurd saw the beast on its approach, and from the evening when he first sighted it to the morning twelve nights later that the creature took to push itself those few miles, toiled without sleep on an ever-growing tangle of pinions and levers. When the beholder reached the entrance of his tent, Gurd stepped outside, lifted the thing, and carried it inside to sit it atop the spider-legged throne he'd crafted for the beast. The beholder thanked Gurd, and stated that before the smith's time was up, it would do him one equally worthy favor in return without Gurd's asking, then rode its new throne away. Gurd's apprentices trade speculation on where the creature has gone, or whether it will return someday, but none have heard of it since.
What secret(s) do they know about another member of their guild?
Gurd has no relation to guilds, in orcish culture or any other, his own master having died before ending his apprenticeship. If he was to know of secrets, it would only be what the iron has told him. Gurd has seen many blades and shields in his time, and replicates those he finds most fascinating. The most unusual pieces might take him a dozen tries over the course of days for him to recreate to his own satisfaction, and while the end product is never the same, in Gurd's crude style, a certain essence remains the same. None but Gurd know what lessons he has learned from imitating the works of others.