Zindlebarf

This is Zindlebarf. He had made it to third level as a fighter before apprenticing himself to a magic-user who helped him to learn spells and reach fifth level as a magic-user. I just found his portrait sketch in one of my old sketch-books the other day. It was a lot of fun to play a kobold back in the OD&D days. Hit-Points were always an issue, but he was scrappy and sneaky and a real survivor. I've re-statted him up using Swords & Wizardry below...

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Zindlebarf

Fighter 3^{rd /} Magic-User 5^th

XP Bonus: none

Kobold, age 14 (getting old for a kobold...)

Alignment: Neutral

Deity: Open to suggestions (Might pick a random Petty God...)

STRength: 9 [To Hit: +0, Damage +0, Open doors on a 1-2, Carry Mod. +5]

DEXterity: 13 [Missile Weapon Bonus +1, AC Bonus: Better by 1 point]

CONstitution: 14 [Hit Point Mod. (per HD) +1, Raise Dead survival 100%]

INTelligence: 17 [Max. Add. Languages 5, Max spell Level 9, Chance to Understand New Spells 85%, Spells per Level 7/all]

WISdom: 8

CHARisma: 15 [Max. Hirelings: 5]

Hit Points: 16

Saving Throw: 11

Armor Class: 9[10] Wears a vest, girdle and a pair of stolen shoes that don't fit well.

Spells per Day: 4,2,1

Gear

• One Ancient Zinmurrian War-club does 1d6 damage, no special abilities, despite Zindlebarf's belief that it must be a powerful magical artifact.
• One Dagger
• Three wine-skins
• Two Torches
• One Iron Spike (rusty)
• 12 copper pieces and something he thinks is an electrum piece.

Spells

First Level: Charm Person, Detect Magic, Read Languages, Read Magic, Sleep

Second Level: Knock, Mirror Image

Third Level: Fireball

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Zindlebarf was included in the In A Dark Place wandering monster matrix (Table III, Option 2). I have a feeling he might just stick around...kobolds can be like that...

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1d8 Quacks: Questionable Medical Specialists from Wermspittle

A quack doctor can kill you without a knife...

Unknown

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Eight Quacks (1d8)

1. Sirondas Balthazaon. Short, hairy, twitchy-fingered; he looks like a shaved weasel in a not terribly convincing man-suit. His specialty is colorful elixirs that can cure baldness, impotence, even diarrhea, at least for 3d4 hours, after which time the symptoms or complaints come back, often doubled. His prices are one-third the going rates. He rarely stays in one place more than 1d4 hours. Just enough to stay ahead of the Constables of the Red Watch, his creditors, and his previous customers.
   
   Sirondas (Escaped Hybrid, Expert Lvl 4) [AL N, MV 30', AC 6 (Lesser Showman's Vest), HD 4 (24 hp), #AT 1 (Verbal/Acid), DG Save or Baffled (1d4 Turns)/3d4 per Turn for 1d4 Turns (Save for Half Effect), SV F4, ML 6. Special: Pronounced musky body odor repels werms (as Protection From Werms in 20' radius). Travels about with a push-cart loaded with bottles, flasks and jars of various elixirs. Not on the best terms with the local authorities since he falsely framed an Almas Glandculler for one of his less fortunate failures in producing a cure for Scarlet Plague. Claims to be half-Pruztian, on his mother's side, but that's probably a lie, despite his carrying a Pruztian Five-Pence Piece that he claims is a 'family heirloom.' Has no identification papers, licenses, permits nor even a diploma.]

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2. Mak Dallarak. Tall, thin and cadaverous, Master Dallarak is quite proud of his (alleged) Nagrothean heritage, and tries his best to keep up appearances, despite the connection being extremely tenuous, and possibly spurious. He wears only dark green, prefers velvet frock coats, and requires corrective lenses when trying to read anything of a sorcerous nature due to a lingering curse inherited from his great-grandmother whom he claims fought in the Midwives' Rebellion. He specializes in peculiar unguents and salves, balms and ointments concocted by hand from traditional materials based upon a secret compendium of recipes bequeathed to him by his aforementioned grandmother. No one has ever seen the book. But he does get his formulas from somewhere.
   
   Master Dallarak (Simulacrum, Expert Lvl 3) [AL C, MV 30', AC 5 (Armor-Paneled Long-Coat), HD 3 (18 hp), #AT 1 (Talons or bludgeon), DG 1d4x2 (treat as +2 weapons, affect immaterial)/1d4+2, SV F3, ML 8. Special: Untrained Oneirical talent: Reads his recipes in a dream-book. He replaced the actual Mak Dallarak years ago, during a particularly harsh winter, and has been regretting it ever since. Suffers 1d4 damage per Round if exposed to a silver mirror. (His crossing-over was incomplete, his Replacement rite only 'just' worked. The actual Mak Dallarak survived the Transition and may be attempting to undo the swap.) He can concoct just about any sort of salve, if the customer can clearly articulate what effect they are after; sometimes these formulations require exotic ingredients or other esoteric factors will make the process more difficult or costly.]

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3. Drushma-mama. Heavily cloaked and over-dressed in too many layers, even in Summer, Drushma-mama is always complaining about the cold. She piles her dishwater-gray hair into elaborate coiffures inspired by the cranial topiaries she remembers seeing among the decorative slaves kept on the underestate of her bond-cousins in Aman Utal. Her bloodline was declared unfit and cast out while she was still in training to become a Noblewoman's Confidential Concierge. Now she peddles disgusting fungal broths and mold-brews to the Refugees and Wrertched, the Afflicted and Outcast in the shanty-camps along the Low Streets.
   
   Drushma-mama (Lowborn Half-Morlock, Expert Lvl 5) [AL C, MV 30', AC 4 (Layered Clothes, Ring of Defense +3), HD 5 (48 hp), #AT 1 (bite), DG 1d4, SV F5, ML 10. Casts spells at 3rd level ability. (Spells per day: 2,1), Spells Known: Cure/Cause Light Wounds, Detect Malady, Remove/Instill Fear, Charm/Repulse Person, Charnel Breath, Vile Residue, Rat's Teeth. Special: She is in communication with a pair of Lesser Nosferatus with whom she has been bartering favors for spells. She also possesses a scroll of Dirt to Meat, but it is above her current level, and she very much wants to gain the ability to cast it before winter. Drushma-mama has an encyclopedic knowledge of fungi, molds and slimes. Jelly-hunters come to her often, both to barter, and to identify newfound blobs. She can call on 2d4 Feral Children, Jelly-Hunters, Foragers or Morlocks to come to her aid once per day.]

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4. Ulin-Kala. She lost her face to an accident with her former mentor's ectography chemicals. The mask she wears came from a boarded-over shop in the Burned Over District. If you bring her foam-ivory or oneiroplasm, she'll craft something unique and special just for you. She's talented that way. A real Prodigy. Her people, nomads from the Western Plateaus, traded her to the Ectographer three summers ago. She's never forgiven any of them. She is gaining a reputation for how she mixes-up Dim Ichor, Black Liquors, and other things into non-damaging cocktails that sometimes have a positive effect. People flock to her in hopes of convincing her to mix them a drink, and most ignore her trinkets, which frustrates her to no end. What no one realizes yet, is that her emotional state has a direct and immediate effect on the drinks she mixes-up...
   
   Ulin-Kala (Abandoned Plateau-Nomad, Expert Lvl 3) [AL C, MV 30', AC 4 (Layered Clothes, Ring of Defense +3), HD 5 (48 hp), #AT 1 (Staff), DG 1d6, SV F3, ML 8. Special: Intuitive Detritus-Sculptor. Has base 30% chance to temporarily animate or awaken her sculptures, trinkets or toys. Can cast Cause/Cure Light Wounds (only for lesser mechanisms/contraptions) twice a day. She also has the innate ability to Transmute Liquids on touch.]

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5. Borsk Halij. The Mostly-Proportionate. Born to a family of Wretches, Borsk ran away from the Circus and apprenticed to a Distiller who taught him about that aspect of the Corruption Trade. He was dismissed when he let the still explode. He tried to be a Forager (got his crew killed), a Scavenger (collapsed a building on his team), and Pit Fighter (accidentally killed his trainer), but none of that worked out for him. Now he steals rusty old barrels and containers of unlabeled Spectral Brine and uses it to fill whatever bottles or containers he can dig out of the local rubbish-heaps. Even he isn't sure what all is in these bottles, he just works with what he has available, and every one is unique.
   
   Borsk-Halaj (Wretched, Expert Lvl 4) [AL C, MV 20', AC 5 (Half-Chain and Hide), HD 4 (17 hp), #AT 2 (Fists), DG 1d6+3 (STR), SV F4, ML 8. Special: Gains +3 Bonus on all Saves. Can attempt to Save versus any/all poisons, toxins, and venoms. CHAR 4, STR 18. Heals at double normal rate.]

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6. Jeeva. Downy-haired acupuncturess from Kathru-Val. She grinds-down various unsavory trimmings and dried herbs into noxious-smelling powders that she foists upon the unsuspecting and gullible as medicinal teas. Most of her 'brews' tend to be harmless, if terribly disgusting. However, she recently tried using some dried worms in one of her 'teas,' and it has caused quite a sensation among her customers who swear the stuff cures the Grey Pox. It's only a matter of time before she runs afoul of the Medical Establishment. Her workshop has been ransacked three times this week. She could use some protection and a little advice. But the local Nest-Mothers will have nothing to do with her since she lacks all spell-casting ability. Perhaps she can convince Hedrard at the Academy to give her a few minutes of her time...
   
   Jeeva (Strixin, Expert Lvl 2) [AL C, MV 20', AC 6 (Greaves, Bracers, Girdle), HD 2 (9 hp), #AT 2 (claws), DG 1d4/1d4), SV F2, ML 6. Special: Has not achieved adulthood, and thus remains wing-less. Suffers -4 Reaction roll with all Harpy-related beings.]

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7. Dralik Mozirre. The Graft-Master of Garlondire. Fat, sweaty, smells of peculiar cheese and strange chemicals. Has been observed eating moth balls. Likes to stay in the shade, mostly operates at night. The local gang of Feral Children stole his pale yellow-satin mask. All his fingers move like sentient jelly, which makes sense; Dralik died last winter. There's a Mucoid inhabiting his not-so-well preserved corpse. The Mucoid makes sure that there's a little piece of itself in every grafting it sells to the wounded, injured and crippled who come to it for help.
   
   Not-Dralik (Grood Cadaver-Shell) [AL N, MV 30', AC 6 (Square-Studded Leather), HD 5 (21 hp), #AT 2 (Fists), DG 1d4/1d4, SV F2, ML n/a. Special: Hollowed-out cadaver-shell, used as a disguise and vehicle for Mucoid. Must make a Save each day or suffer permanent 1d4 damage. Upon reaching zero HP, the cadaver-shell becomes an inoperative, putrid mess of rotting tissue.]
   
   Silisisi'ak (Mucoid, Expert Lvl 5) [AL C, MV 10', AC 7 (Mucous-sheath), HD 5 (31 hp), #AT 2 (Sting or spells), DG 1d4/1d4 or by spell), SV MU5, ML 9/4 (if cadaver-shell is breached). Spell-Use: Spells per day: 2,2,1. Spells Known: First Level: Cause/Cure Light Wounds, Staunch Bleeding, Cause/Remove Fear, Resist Cold/Heat, Charm Person, Protection From Vertebrates, Sleep. Second Level: Hold Person, Speak with Molds, Continual Haze, ESP, Web (Mucous). Third Level: Animate Dead, Cause Disease, Protection From Firearms. Special: Regenerates 1 HP each Turn, unless exposed to salt, fire or acid.]

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8. Ruthiko. The Leech-Monger. Short, broad-hipped Urushian dowager who openly wears the green and blue checkered-pattern of the Usurper, mostly to cover-up the increasingly obvious mauve spots and splotches spreading across her face and hands. If you watch closely, you can sometimes see things writhe and move about beneath her skin. She sells a wide variety of leeches collected from various cellar-swamps, fountain-pools, cisterns, even the Low Marshes. Every leech is selected for its specific medicinal uses and murderous application.
   
   Ruthiko (Leech-host, Expert Lvl 6) [AL C, MV 20', AC 6 (Greaves, Bracers, Girdle), HD 6 (38 hp), #AT 1 (Vomit Leeches or Blood-drain), DG (see below) or 1d6 per round if Attached (rolls 19 or 20 To Hit), SV MU6, ML 9. Special: Can use Vomit Leeches up to three times per day. She also Commands Leeches as a Cleric of 6th Level (as per Turning table, swap leeches for undead). She also has a form of ESP that applies only to Leeches. Even when coerced by spells, Leeches will not attack her. Vomit Leeches produces a stream of 3d6 large, wriggly leeches with a range of 12'. Each leech has 1d4 HP, does 1 HP damage (+1d6 blood drain on a roll of 19 or 20 to hit), is AC 9, and takes double damage from fire attacks.]

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Nadume of the Ashen Maze (Zalchis)

"It is also said, in a more quiet voice, among the nihilomads who send their young girls to wait at one of the sacred wells for Nadume, that she might teach them certain spells and grant them such blessings as are in her power to bestow. Of course such things come at a price. But what use is a soul, what value does it hold for those who prowl the fractured perimeters of broken universes, rifling through the ruins of shattered worlds and places that by rights ought not to exist any longer? Of course it is not only the Nihilomads who seek out Nadume. There are others who would bargain with Her..."

from: Elegy of the Ashen Maze

The Lady...
Not quite a goddess. More than any mere demon. Nadume walks a dim and twisting path haunted by more things than just ghosts. For a small quantity of your blood she can tell you your fate and for a portion of your soul she can help you to forget. She will condense your liver into a gem or armor your brain within a labyrinth of glistening metal, if you meet her price. She also knows how to open the way to many desolate and abandoned places where a clever person might find something of more than passing value. But one must be careful in bargaining with Nadume, for she has many uses for men's souls.

Lamias fear her, succubi revile her, the barren hags of the razor crags mock her, but none of them can claim to have rejected the Tyrant Himself, who once sought to make her one of his sacrificial concubines. It was on account of the unwanted advances of the Tyrant of Zalchis that Nadume first donned her smooth, silk-silver mask to conceal her once legendary beauty. No one has seen her face in over a thousand years. Some say that Nadume no longer has a face any more, that she has become an empty spirit, one cursed to spend the rest of what days remain wandering the ashen wastes where once a mighty forest grew...


The Ashen Maze...
Bitter, barren and twisted...the Ashen Maze is a place beyond mere death, past destruction. Once it may have been some sort of interstitial wilderness, a verdant place full of life and living things that coiled and wound about thousands of worlds and underneath or behind multitudes of universes. Oh it was a marvel to behold then. Before the Tyrant of Zalchis murdered a cosmos and brought death unto the Hidden Forest.

Zalchis. Uttering the name in this place smears broken glass in a festering wound. It is blasphemous to speak that name here where the cancerous mechanical influence of that damned and doomed place lingers like an open and gangrenous wound of malevolent sorcery and toxic spite. It also draws the attention of unsleeping, unliving things that endlessly prowl the burning and bleeding edges of this realm where the age-old wrath of the Tyrant continues unabated, implacable and relentless. The region of ashes grows. The Old Woods die. In their place an empty place of sour echoes and poison shadows grows.

The burning, the killing, the despoiling continues. It is the will of the Tyrant. It is the price of Nadume's freedom. It is the intolerable bargain she struck for Herself...

Nadume
Symbol: Her name inscribed as a cartouche within an opal, usually in a dead language.
Talisman: Silk-Silver Mask
Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 120' (40')
Armor Class: 2
Hit Dice: 14 (Regenerates 2 hp per Turn)
Attacks: 1
Damage: 2d6 (Life Drain), or by weapon
Save: C14
Morale: 10

Immunities: Charm, Domination, Gaze Attacks, Hold, Hypnosis, Illusion, Sleep, and Trap the Soul.

In addition Nadume only takes half damage (none if she Saves) from poisons, toxins or venoms (including radiation).

She cannot be summoned, but she can be Communed With and Contacted, if one knows the proper spells or has access to one of her opals.

Nadume Turns Mechanical Organisms and Machines as a 14th Level Cleric turning undead. (see p. 9, Labyrinth Lord.)

She uses spells as a 14th level spell-caster. Spells per day: 6,5,5,4,3,3,0. She has access to a formidable repertoire of unique spells, some of which are featured in the three Glyph-posts (links directly below). Full details of Nadume's grimoire of spells will be provided in The Ashen Maze pdf.

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Spells of the First Glyph-Stone | Spells of the Second Glyph-Stone
Spells of the Third Glyph-Stone

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Nadume appears most like a humanoid female. Her silk-silver mask obscures her features, large, hollowed-out opals cover her eyes allowing her to Discern Souls, Detect Magic and possibly more. Her shadow will sometimes slip away on strange errands all on its own. Her gloved hands can either harm or heal for 2d6 per touch. Sometimes she wields a weapon. Usually she prefers her spells.

The Veiled Hags of Ashadan claim that Nadume is immortal and will survive the ultimate death of Zalchis. The Sibylls of Kalrush refuse to speculate about such things--they fear this woman who spurned the Tyrant. The other Powers active within Zalchis tend to ignore or dismiss Nadume as she is trapped within the Ashen Maze and of little consequence to their schemes. Most suspect that her realm will collapse into nothingness soon after the final ending of Zalchis. If not, it will be of no matter; the Tyrant's Wrath will not end with Zalchis, if anything it will continue to destroy her realm for the rest of forever. In that, if nothing else, Nadume has indeed achieved some measure of immortality.

Nadume trades in souls. She is revered by the Soulless, despised and reviled by those faiths that would claim their follower's souls for their own purposes. Her favor comes at a steep price. It is left to those who pay her to decide if it is worth the cost.

Pretty Young Things (20 Eloi NPCs)

My life might have been passed in ease and luxury, but I preferred glory to every enticement that wealth placed in my path. Oh, that some encouraging voice would answer in the affirmative! My courage and my resolution is firm; but my hopes fluctuate, and my spirits are often depressed. I am about to proceed on a long and difficult voyage, the emergencies of which will demand all my fortitude: I am required not only to raise the spirits of others, but sometimes to sustain my own, when theirs are failing...

Frankenstein, by Mary W. Shelley

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Twenty Eloi NPCs (D20)

1. Lucretia has a thing for mirrors and ghosts. She dances for the spirits that sing to her through her mirrors. They whisper to her of peculiar keys and dreamy things, and especially of an empire that is hers for the taking. She only needs to locate her own reflection. It escaped one night, during a terrible storm, and has been playing a sort of cat-and-mouse game with her ever since. Now neither she nor her independent reflection (most often taking a male guise), can be seen in a mirror or any other such surface. Sometimes this prompts her associates to suspect her of vampirism, accusations of which can sometimes be very inconvenient to disprove.
   
   Lucretia [Eloi, F/MU, LVL 2/3, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (loop-scale corset-cuirass, war-gloves), HD 5 (22 hp), #AT 2, DG 1d6/1d4 (+1 Mirror-blade & +2 curved dagger), SV MU5, ML 9. Special: 18 DEX, 17 CHAR & INT. Dagger can re-roll a miss if wielder takes 1d4 damage. Mirror-blade does double damage to Dobblekin, Simulacra, etc. Spells per day: 2,1. Level One: Charm Person, Light/Dark, Sleep. Level Two: Mirror Image, Phantasmal Force. Lucretia carries or owns (2d4) random mirrors of various kinds and sorts at all times.]
2. Gelja has been hitting the Hard Candy way too often lately. She doesn't much care any more. Ever since her twin was taken by the Comprachicos she has been obsessed with tracking them down and getting them back. She hasn't slept in three weeks or more. It's starting to show. She bleeds black, like a Tsalalian now and her once golden hair is turning black as well...
   
   Gelja [Eloi Thief, LVL 3, AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (Banded Leather), HD 3 (14 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4+4 (Six-Scalpel-Lash), SV T3, ML 11. Pick Locks: 27%, Set/Disable Traps: 25%, Sleight of Hand: 30%, Move Silent: 36%, Climb: 80%, Hide: 27%, Hear: 1-3. Backstab: +4 to hit, X2 damage, with surprise. Special: The Lash can be used as a garrotte on a score of 18 or better; inflicting double damage if the victim fails a Save. Hard Candy Addict: Gelja needs to make a CON Check (or a Save) every 24 hours to hold off the effects of the Vile Transformation. Right now she has a +3 bonus to her Check/Save, but every time she takes more than half her hit points in damage, she loses one of those pluses. Eventually her bonuses will become penalties and the Vile Transformation will be increasingly difficult to hold off. It's a losing game. She knows this. It's a price to pay to get what she wants. She's paying it. Now she has no time to waste.]
3. Pask served as a body guard and concubine to a rich noble who was banished to Wermspittle for certain unspecified excesses that incurred the Imperial Wrath. Like a fool, Pask followed his mistress to this place. She died after her third week. Poison. They blamed Pask. After three years in the Arenas, Pask still wouldn't talk about it unless blind drunk on Black Liquor. After the Black Liquor, he can't recall any of the details, only the pain remains.
   
   Pask [Eloi Fighter, LVL 4, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 5 (Layered Mesh and Shield), HD 4 (32 hp), #AT 1, DG 2d6+2 (Flame-Spike Flamberge) or 3d4 (Three-Section Flail), SV F4, ML 5. Special: Pask must make a WIS Check (or a Save) to remember anything any more. He has a 45% chance to go berserk in his sleep and wildly attack anyone and everyone within 30' of his resting place.]
4. The sight of old brick slums and dark foreign faces eat ever so deeply into Lylistire's ennui-stifled soul, or so he often will remind anyone whom he suspects of listening. Tormented and precious, this Eloi poseur is obsessed with appearances and implications. His paranoia is rich and virulent in respect to his closest colleagues and dearest friends, but rarely troubles him around complete strangers. He strives cunningly to make a suitable impression on those he has never met before. Those whom he knows, even only slightly, he tends to take for granted.
   
   Lylistire [Eloi Expert (Poet), AL C, MV 90' (30'), AC 8 (Velvet-lined Panel-Coat), HD 2 (8 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4 or Scathing Rebuke, SV MU2, ML 4. Special: Lylistre can opt to inflict 1d4 damage per Scathing Rebuke in place of sullying his new gloves with blood. This is a verbal attack and requires him to use a language recognized by the target. He is fluent in eleven languages.]
5. Zeeb was raised among Roof-Runners. She is highly skilled at climbing, jumping, and all the things expected of a Roof-Runner.
   
   Zeeb [Eloi Thief (Roof-Runner), LVL 3, AL C, MV 120' (60'), AC 8 (Slick Brigadine), HD 3 (12 hp), #AT 2, DG 1d4+2/1d4+1 (Climbing Axe or Daggers), SV T3, ML 7. Pick Locks: 30%, Set/Disable Traps: 35%, Sleight of Hand: 20%, Move Silent: 36%, Climb: 84%, Hide: 25%, Hear: 1-3. Backstab: +4 to hit, double damage, with surprise. Carries 4 sets of climbing cable or rope (each 50-100'. Keeps a pouch of spider-bane on her belt.]
6. Shildra is a restless, high-strung, difficult child; brilliant, messy, incredibly creative, and far from ornamental, now that the vivid blue-green mold has robbed her of her looks (-4 to CHAR). She has looked upon the Smoldering Seas of Kazibak and traded her left hand for something more useful...
   
   Shildra [Eloi Spellcaster, LVL 4, AL C, MV 120' (30'), AC 7 (Studded Vest, Ragged Lace), HD 4 (15 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4+1 (+2 Bodkin), SV MU 4, ML 5. Special: Shildra can cast  Contact Other Plane (Kazibak) once per week. Her left hand is a disconcerting mess of silver fluids and writhing phosphorescent green tendrils that somehow remains intact, despite its weird appearance. This prosthetic can change its shape at will, automatically Detects Magic (on touch), can reach past most mundane barriers (limited Passwall), and either smother or scald opponents on a successful attack (does both on 19 or better). Spells per day: 2,2. Level One: Hold Portal, Magic Missile (Searing Mercurial Droplets), Shield. Level Two:  Levitate, Locate Object, Web (Strands of Mucous).  Special: Shildra possesses a bone whistle that casts Sottarix's Six Clouds once per day. She does not know how to choose which cloud it will produce.]
7. Dashae was raised in an attic by her maternal grandparents. They negotiated an arranged marriage for her and her three sisters. It was a terrible blow to them all when the emissary of a foreign Prince they were supposed to be dealing with turned out to be a fraud. She ran away the night they discovered the truth. She's a Forager now. There hasn't been any opportunity to find out what became of her sisters. She has to keep busy, keep moving, keep working, or else her spot will get forfeited and someone else will take her place in the queue. Only seventeen spots remain between her and a real apprenticeship or even entry into the Academy.
   
   Dashae [Eloi Thief (Forager), LVL 3, AL C, MV 120' (60'), AC 7 (Boiled Silk), HD 3 (16 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d6+1 (Yurlishi Katar), SV T3, ML 7. Pick Locks: 20%, Set/Disable Traps: 25%, Sleight of Hand: 17%, Move Silent: 38%, Climb: 80%, Hide: 35%, Hear: 1-3. Backstab: +4 to hit, double damage, with surprise. Carries a Forager Pack.]
8. Joola's family has been raising winged cats for generations now. She, however, cannot stand the filthy beasts. For their part it is a mutual antipathy. Joola wants to be a singer. Her looks and her innate charm-ability have gotten her quite a bit farther than her meager talent and grating voice ever could. A shot of Black Liquor tends to smooth out her voice. Now if she could just get those damned cats from crashing her shows.
   
   Joola [Eloi Expert (Former Cat Herder), AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (Cat Leather), HD 2 (7 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4+1 (Cat-Skinning Knife), SV F1, ML 5. Special: Joola's voice provokes a CHAR Check with a -2 penalty, unless she has had a shot of Black Liquor, then it gains a bonus of +2. Joola recently picked-up a mandolin. She does not know how to play it. Cats hate her. They frequently target her boots.]
9. Karj reads too much. He's the first to admit it. But with his memory, he only needs to read something once to be able to recall it later. Sometimes he wishes he could forget certain of the things he's read.
   
   Karj [Eloi Spellcaster, LVL 3, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (Lacquered-Plaque Robes), HD 3 (11 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4+poison (Bundle of Tail-Spines), SV MU 3, ML 9. Spells per day: 2,1. Level One: Cloud of Sparks, Magic Missile (Cascade of Pages), Read Magic, Shield. Level Two: Locate Object (Book), Web (Constricting Tendrils). Special: Karj is very well-known to several local book-sellers.]
10. Lurri was born to a family of gardeners. Their ancestors tended the great greenhouses that were ruined in the war. Which war depends upon which of her relatives is telling the family lore. They've lived in the attics of an Abandoned Property in the Burned Over District for so long that no one remembers where the old greenhouses used to be any more. Some of the younger cousins don't believe in such nonsense. They understand the harsh realities of the here and now.
    
    Lurri [Eloi Expert (Gardener), AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (Lacquered Lamellar), HD 2 (10 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4/1d4 (Knife or Trowel), SV F1, ML 6. Special: Lurri was gifted her great-grandsire's crossbow...but she has lost the quarrels.]
11. Keedri has very pale eyes and incredibly tangled hair that is on the verge of becoming a riotous mane of dreadlocks. She is frail to the point of appearing anemic and almost bloodless, with a distinctly unhealthy grayness around the eyes. The spirits that possess her and speak through her at the seances she holds only grant their guidance and favor at a very steep price.
    
    Keedri [Eloi Spellcaster (Medium), LVL 2, AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (Bone-Reinforced Plaited Cordage), HD 2 (7 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d6+1 (Sword-cane), SV MU 2, ML 4. Spells per day: 2. Level One: Protection from Spirits, Ventriloquism. Special: Keedri has the ability to use her CHAR Reaction roll to befriend spirits. She also can Discern Presences at will and allow a spirit to talk/communicate through her if she voluntarily fails a Save either via Spirit Trance, ritual seance, or by Invoked Possession. She has three distinct entities that have taken an interest in her. One is a Predatory Projection that is attempting to mislead her about its true nature. She has a Received Text that she is transcribing in a backwards cipher based upon another of her spirit-guides' efforts to instruct her in various aspects of the sorcerous arts. The third spirit is difficult to contact, as it cannot abide the Predatory Projection's influence. It is some sort of discarnate scholar that cannot recall very many details about their previous existence, but it is attempting to teach Keedri a form of Voorish Sign to help defend her from the duplicitous Projection.]
12. Faren is descended from a proud line of idlers and do-nothings. Her people were once so rich and powerful that they had slaves to perform every menial task for them. Those days ended abruptly when their city was bombed into ruins. Reduced to penniless refugees, her people have had a particularly hard time of it in the shanty towns. It's amazing to her how quickly her kin took to the brothels. Her aunts now both control two very prosperous establishments, though they each had to arrange for their disagreeable husbands to disappear when they both started making noises about who was head of their households. Faren helped dispose of the remains. That was when she realized that her aunts had no intention of leaving her around as any sort of witness. She's been wandering the alleys and by-ways of the Shanty Towns ever since. She prefers to keep a low profile, in so far as her vanity will allow her...
    
    Faren [Eloi Cleric (Serves: Zoosh The Selfish), LVL 2, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 5 (Ancestral Chain-Mail), HD 2 (11 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d6+1 (Bifurcated Staff), SV C2, ML 3. Spells per Day: 2. Level One: Allurement (limited phantasmal forces), Expand Capacity (only for self), Purify Food and Drink (only for self), Resist Cold (only for self), Sleep (Dispel Vigor). Turn Virtuous (as Turn Undead). Holy Symbol: Wide-Open Mouth molded in solid gold, modeled upon Faren herself.]
13. Voona is a former Rat Catcher's apprentice. She saw a swarm of rats obliterate her mentor and seven other apprentices just last week. She only just barely escaped. Mostly because she had fallen into a crevasse and had been climbing back up out of the pit when the rats turned upon her group. In her hurry to draw her weapon and attack the squealing mass of rodents, her hand slipped and she fell back down the crevasse. She awoke on the lichen-covered floor of a cavern overlooking one of the older cisterns. It took her four days to climb back up and out from there. Now she's debating what to do with herself. She doesn't see much of a future in being a Rat Catcher. Maybe knowing where a forgotten cistern is located might be worth something, to someone...
    
    Voona [Eloi Specialist (Ex-Vermin Hunter), AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (Decommissioned Sewer-Scale, Mesh-Gauntlets), HD 2 (14 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4/1d6/1d4+2 (Serrated Knife, Truncheon or Fighting Torch), SV F1, ML 6. Special: Voona is currently listed as missing in action and presumed eaten by rats. She has about a dozen dinged-up old rat-traps and cages that she's considering selling.]
14. Jalisk ran away from home tonight. His mother had become one of the Soulless. He decided that he wasn't going to stick around to get used like another pawn in her devious machinations, not like his brother, his sister, and everyone else in their family. If he wasn't so scared, he might start to have ambitions.
    
    Jalisk [Eloi AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (Quilted and Shield), HD 1 (5 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4 (light club), SV Zero-Level Human, ML 4. Special: Jalisk stole 400 silver coins on the way out of his mother's estate.]
15. L'Vinya was named for her great-aunt who was lost when her wagon didn't make it through the second Weak Point in the dark forests they had to cross to get to the seemingly endless plain of gray mud that brought them to the North East Rampart and into Wermspittle.
    
    L'Vinya [Eloi Spellcaster, LVL 2, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (Vertebrae-Disk Leather), HD 2 (7 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4* (Ruuzang Stiletto), SV MU2, ML 5. Spells per day: 2. Level One: Charm Person (Revulsion), Light/Dark (Lilac Dimness), Protection From Insanity, Sleep (Incite Dream), Foul Fumes, Glossalalia. Special: Ruuzang Stiletto does double damage on roll of 19, triple on a natural 20; but it has a 75% chance to snap off in either instance. L'Vinya owns a copy of Manku's Black Book, three unfinished wands and a scroll of Convert Blood to Lamp-Oil.]
16. Kosha dreams of a white sphinx every night. A huge, alabaster sphinx looming over a vast expanse of wind-swept ice. Sometimes they wake up in the morning with a layer of frost over everything in their room.
    
    Kosha [Eloi Spellcaster (Dreamer), LVL 2, AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (Fungal Leather), HD 2 (6 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4+1 (Glass Club), SV MU 2, ML 9. Spells per day: 2. Level One: Protection From Nightmares, Dreamlight, Dreamwalk, Lucidity, Interpret Dreams, Oneiric Shield, Sleep. Special: Kosha's Glass Club affects intangibles for 2d4+3 damage. It cannot/will not affect non-intelligent undead.]
17. Tidri isn't quite so easily-hypnotized as Tonash the Master-Somnambulist originally thought. She never batted an eye as she slit his throat. She still smiles sweetly every time she thinks of it. If it hadn't been for him trying to stuff her into one of his velvet-lined cabinets, she might never have discovered her talent for the more subtle arts. Looting his library before she left was also one of her better ideas. After selling off the less useful tomes, she was able to get herself some decent clothes and secure a reasonably safe place to study. She just has to avoid the snares and servants of the other Somnambulists seeking revenge on her.
    
    Tidri [Eloi Spellcaster (Oneirist), LVL 2, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (Beaded Leather), HD 2 (9 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4+2 (Snip-Shears), SV MU 2, ML 8. Spells per day: 2. Level One: Collect Oneiroplasm, Detonate Oneiroplasm, Dream Projection, Discern Unreal, Disperse Oneiroplasm, Language of Dreams, Lesser Hypnosis, Protection From Dreams, Rude Awakening, Trance Induction. Special: Tidri has six manuals and books on various oneirical techniques and practices from which she has taught herself her eclectic repertoire of non-standard spells. She has also dreamed of a shining short sword formed of some sort of bone-like material that is becoming more manifest each night she dreams of it. Three more nights and it will be usable for one hour each night.]
18. Zizi never wanted to be part of the Circus. She didn't ask to be a contortionist. She wasn't going to let Uncle Leonard send her off to the Comprachicos to get her 'fixed.' Things had gotten increasingly hard after her father died at the Battle of Xoron and the Gray Pox took her mother away from her. And, yes, she was grateful for all her uncle had done for her, but she had had enough. If he wanted someone cut and stitched and reworked to please the crowds, he could go get himself mangled. She ran off and hasn't looked back once in three years. She tries not to notice the hunchback that seems to be following her everywhere.
    
    Zizi [Eloi Fighter/Thief, LVL 2/2, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (Light Bruthem-Hide), HD 4 (24 hp), #AT 2, DG 1d6/1d4+2 (Machete or Pincer-Knife), SV F3, ML 7. Thief Skills: Pick Locks: 27%, Set/Disable Traps: 20%, Sleight of Hand: 27%, Move Silent: 27%, Climb: 88%, Hide: 15%, Hear: 1-2. Backstab: +4 to hit, double damage, with surprise. Special: Pincer-Knife can snap-shut on a roll of 18-20, causing double damage and automatically inflicting 1d4+2 per turn until removed.]
19. Ladjo lives hard. He's rarely sober and only gets meaner when he goes for very long without a drink. His tolerance for exotic liquors is astounding. But then having three livers has more than a little to do with that.
    
    Ladjo [Eloi Fighter, LVL 4, AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 4 (Spike-Mail), HD 4 (38 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d6+2 (Trefoil-Axe), SV F4, ML 9. Special: Heavily scarred in mind and body alike. The right eye isn't his. The right hand has talons and looks like it came from a griffin. The Grafters in the Arenas aren't always so choosy about what parts get used. Ladjo did a few favors for an Almas Glandculler a while back, hence his internal modifications that allow him to drink well past the point of excess and survive.]
20. Vashun is quiet. Almost skittish. They lost their tongue to some geist-thing their party ran into on the Third Flight of the Deep Stairs. They haven't been the same since.
    
    Vashun [Eloi Fighter, LVL 2, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (Scale-Mail), HD 2 (7 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d6 (Crossbow or Short Sword), SV F2, ML 5 (-4 to ML when facing Geists). Special: Vashun tends to flake out when faced with what feels like overwhelming odds. They prefer to run away, not finish the job. They've been dismissed as a henchman by three employers already. Vashun does know several unmarked secret passages located along the first three flights of the Deep Stairs, which in itself is often pretty useful and valuable.]

Takers (Wermspittle)

Some, maybe, they will train to hunt us..."

The War of the Worlds, Book 2, Chapter 7: The Man on Putney Hill

---

Takers

1. Baljesk never liked the Imperial Franzikaner Navy. The 'discipline' just never caught-on with him, though he did rather fancy the officer's coats, with all those shiny brass buttons. Left for dead after a particularly brutal flogging (he'd more than earned it), Baljesk roused himself before the corpse-carters could fob off his worthless bones on the port-town ghouls. He murdered the carters, escaped the ghouls and stole a small boat only to succumb to a vicious fever. He must have been delirious when he took the boat down that cursed river. The stinking thing ran aground upon a River Clot and sunk as he passed beneath Wermspittle. He barely missed drowning. Now he prowls the darkened warehouses around the High Pier watching, waiting for an airship to take him away to some exotic locale. Preferably somewhere warm. In the meantime he oversees a rag-tag band of misfits whom he refers to as his 'marines.'  They prey upon ignorant Refugees and unwary Foragers, mostly. Slavers, Comprachicos, Butchers--even resurrectionists, viviesectionists or clandestine surgeons--Baljesk doesn't care whom he deals with, so long as they pay a good price. Lately he's getting the best offers from representatives he suspects of working for the Mucoids, not that it really matters to him.
   
   Baljesk [(1), Franzikaner deserter, AL C, MV 120', AC 5 (Heavy War-Coat), HD 6 (34 hp, suffers from wracking cough due to exposure to Black Smoke), #AT 1, DG 1d6 (Rifle-butt), SV F6, ML 6.]
   
   Baljesk's 'Marines' [(2d4), AL N, MV 120', AC 6 (Studded Leather & Shield), HD 1, #AT 1, DG 1d6 (make-shift blunt objects), SV F1, ML 4. special: most are afflicted or infected. None can swim. They will desert their leader if at any time it appear that he might lose to a stronger opponent.]
2. Glisk left Dush'Ivra, the infamous City-State of the Red Pearl, within a week of hatching. He'd been taken by a sailor on an airship. It had been a good life, clambering about in the rigging, handling freight, hunting harpies and the rest. They left him here. In this wretched place. Years ago. When the rum runs out Glisk runs down anyone with a price on their head. He isn't picky. For those who pay extra he'll bring back more than just the head. He is horribly scarred over two-thirds of his body with the irregular striations of the warrior-cult of Gashmal and is immune to all pain/sensation spells or fear effects. Glisk had a place in the Near Deep where he hibernated through the worst of last Winter. Or at least he did, until a group of Feral Children discovered it and trashed the place. Now he needs to make new plans, find a better lair, and winter, as always is coming. He's considering capturing some of those rotten kids for the Comprachicos.
   
   [Neuter Yellowscale reptillian humanoid, AL N, MV 60' (20'), AC 5 (Lacquered-Rope Cuirass), HD 4 (32hp), #AT 1, DG (1d4+2 Bell-Mace/1d4 claws/1d4 bite/60% chance to trip with tail sweep), SV F4, ML 11 (4 if drunk/suffering flashbacks). Special: Glisk has 18 STR and a 6 CHAR.]
3. Dulin woke up in the mud, just outside the Eastern Rampart. The Wall Patrol found him. He was a mess. Lost most of his left leg and arm, half the fingers on his right hand, all the toes on the right foot. But he survived the Grood field surgeon's ministrations and the replacements he received have all grown-in and fleshed-out reasonably well, though he does have a limp and his left arm is a tad longer than the right. They could rebuild his shattered flesh, but they did nothing for his broken mind before turning him out onto the streets. One soldier gave him the trench-knife he still carries. He wanders the back-alleys, the low streets, through the shanty-towns and impromptu encampments of the Refugees who flock to this place. When he gets a good opportunity, he abducts whomever he can and delivers them to whomever will pay. It never occurs to him to ask questions. He doesn't even know when he began doing this, nor even how he learned to do it. He just does what it takes to survive.
   
   Dulin [Male, Forsaken, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 5 (rusty, muddy trench-mail), HD 5 (45 hp; regenerates 1hp per hour), #AT 1, DG 1d6+1 (Trench-knife) or 1d4+1 (Red Creeper Constrictor-Snare), SV F5, ML 6. Special: Base 20% chance to recognize someone whom he might have known before whatever happened 'out there.' Dulin tends to be ruled by instincts, not rational thought.]
4. Sarmus Bonjay gave himself up to the Soulless just under a hundred years ago. Now, at this late date, he has acted upon his growing regrets and disaffection for the cult and left them after stealing away what he was sure was the Opal that held his own soul. Unfortunately it wasn't. His former liege tricked him with a spell. The Opal he carries belongs to another. If Sarmus does not find a way to recover the correct Opal, his own soul is in dire jeopardy. So far, his liege has either not noticed his defection, or perhaps they are cruelly toying with him. In either case Sarmus has found himself forced into a most distasteful trade; he now tracks, captures and returns runaway slaves. Having no conscience helps, however even devoid of principles, he cannot avoid the obvious hypocrisy of his situation.
   
   Sarmus Bonjay [Male, Soulless (Interdicted), AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 4 (Banded-Mail), HD 7 (62hp), #AT 1, DG 1d6+1 (Inert Black-Alloy Morningstar: ignores magical 'pluses' on defending armor), SV F7, ML n/a (Immune to Fear, Charm, Emotional/Sensory magic). Special: As a Soulless, Sarmus cannot benefit from clerical healing (unless administered by an atheist). They also are currently Interdicted, meaning they have been cut-off from all their spells and will receive no support or acknowledgement from any other Soulless. See Soulless II for more details.
   
   Slave-Takers (3d4) AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (Leather), HD 2, #AT 1, DG 1d4/1d6 (misc. weapons), SV T2, ML 9. Special: +4 when attacking with surprise, strike from behind X2 damage, try to immobilize/incapacitate, not kill...unless pressed.]
5. Yavnik Uloshigon Arrived in Wermspittle three years ago, just before Winter. He lost his left hand to a chance encounter with a Butcher Boy. He sold the boy's body back to his masters and found himself gainfully employed that winter. Refusing to undergo the rites and assorted other unpleasantries associated with entering into the service of the Butchers, and his seasonal dispensation not carrying over past that first winter, Yavnik abandoned his association with the Butchers and instead fell in with a group of Attic-Pickers. In the course of examining one particular attic he discovered a sect of Mucoids. Now he serves them. Bringing them fresh victims for their transfusion-tubes. They've rewarded him well. He has a new hand. Even if it is a make-shift Mucoid-hand.
   
   Yavnik [Demi-Mucoid, Male, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 4 (Coil-Mail), HD 4 (26 hp, can regain 1d4 by immersing left hand in victim's wounds up to 3/times per day), #AT 1, DG 1d6+Stun (Galvanic Prod) or 1d4x2 (Mercury-filled Club), SV F4, ML 5. Special: Suffers a -2 penalty on all Saves against poison or infection, but has a +2 bonus on Saves versus spells or petrification). Yavnik has a 16 CHAR and is looking to attract and train-up a few good henchmen to help him in his work.]
6. Lucheevra Delavara was once a great beauty among her coterie of glamorous courtesans. When a depraved ex-monk ruined half her face with acid, she abandoned her former life. She wears a half-mask of yellow metal set with glistening black stones over the still-beautiful part of her face. Her ruined eye has been replaced with one drawn forth from some distant plane by a sorcerer she is rumored to have murdered once the implantation was complete. Lucheevra hunts debtors, runaway whores and anyone with a suitable price on their head. She hates everyone equally. Though she does seem to prefer hunting down ecclesiastical rebels, rogue clericists, heretics, and especially monastics who've abandoned or illegitimately repudiated their vows in particular. She doesn't care what religion or faith, nor even if the charges are true or valid. She just likes to make these sorts of pigs squeal. Before she guts them.
   [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 5 (Fighting Gown), HD 4 (21 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d6+1 (+1 gladius), SV T4, ML 10. Special: Discern Ley Line, Discern Magic, See Invisible at will. Commune with Jurodask, Lord of the Verdant Cube once per week (as Commune with Other Plane spell.) There are rumors that Lucheevra is attempting to learn how to cast spells from her other-planar mentor. She prefers to use man-catchers, nooses or other subdual-type weapons to capture her prey, but will use her gladius at the first real sign of trouble.
7. Mal'kithrik escaped from a chamber of horrors, the one maintained by Bairini's Big Top just over a month ago. He fell in with a small band of highly unlucky mercenaries who sort of adopted his as a sort of mascot. They're all dead now. Killed on the Round Road before reaching the South Western Rampart. Mal only survived by dint of having fallen into an especially deep puddle of mud. He nearly drowned, but he escaped the worst of the Black Smoke that took his friends. Not being particularly bright, Mal took it as some sort of punishment from his Creator, so he returned to the Chamber of Horrors and now serves his master very earnestly and diligently. He is sent out into the low streets every few nights to gather living specimens, what his master refers to as 'volunteers from the audience.'
   
   Abhuman Amalgam-man [(1), AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 4 (Padded-Mesh), HD 5 (45 hp), #AT 2, DG 1d4+3 (fists) or 1d6+3 (heavy mace), SV F5, ML 11. Special: Gains second Save when failing first attempt due to unnatural vitality.]
8. Kambru Dalazig rode out of his last big battle on an officer's horse. Crossing over at the North Eastern Rampart the horse stepped on a mine. He rolled free just in time. His stolen long-coat warded off the worst of the blast. He walked the rest of the way. A deserter falsely claiming to be both a commissioned officer and a Pruztian Noble, Kambru hunts down other deserters under a special warrant issued to him by the Pruztian Ambassador Karlush Bezwenger. It's a good thing that the rails and the mails have all been so disrupted. So far no one has recognized him, nor called him out as a fraud...but that day is coming, of that Kambru has no doubt. He just hopes that he's ready when it comes about. The ailing Ambassador trusts him. There's a good chance that the old man will name Kambru as his successor, should he become unable to carry out his duties. Then his little charade won't matter...neither will his little arrangement with the Mucoids. So far no one seems to have missed a few deserters.
   
   Kambru Dalazig [Pruztian Cavalry, AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 4 (Demi-Cuirass and Mail), HD 4 (30 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d6+1 (Pruztian Catchmen's Lance: mandible-guard can be triggered to snap closed on target) or 2d6 (Horsemen's Double-Culverin) or 1d6 (Sabre), SV F4, ML 5. Special: wields a lariat fashioned from Red Creeper fortified hemp. ] 
   
   Barrier Troops (1d4) AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (Blackened Leather), HD 2, #AT 1, DG 1d4/1d6 (misc. weapons), SV T2, ML 9. Special: +4 when attacking with surprise, strike from behind X2 damage. They hate Dalazig and suspect him for a fraud. They do not intend to sacrifice themselves on his behalf.]
9. Urneeva Hald makes her living ambushing would-be abductors and other Takers. She learned the trade from her Morlock grandparents. Good thing she gets her looks from her mother's side of the family.
   
   Half-Morlock/Half-Eloi [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 5 (Elegant Lorica Segmentata), HD 5 (28 hp), #AT 2, DG 1d4+1 (Dagger) or 1d6+1 (Short Bow), SV T5 ML 11. Special: 5th level Thief abilities, with a focus on setting traps, backstabbing and ambush tactics. She is adept at setting up dead-falls, snares, pit-traps, and the like. She also sometimes uses a wire garrotte from behind with surprise, when the situation warrants.]
   
   The Lady's Own Ambushers [Morlock Scouts/Thieves (2d4) AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (Studded Leather), HD 3, #AT 1, DG 1d6 (Wire-Loop Snare--Spear or Soft-Clubs), SV T3, ML 11. Special: +4 when attacking with surprise, strike from behind X2 damage.]
10. Dridigar Pensk grew up in the Arenas. He was sold-off to that life by his old gang once he grew too old to lead them any more. Feral Children are funny that way. He understands. Doesn't hold a grudge. He's wouldn't want such weak sentiment getting in the way of his job. Retired from the fighting end of the business these days, Dridigar prowls the Burned Over Districts scouting out new talent for the stable-masters. He has a way with those Feral Children who do not immediately recognize him for the Taker-Man that he has become. The best damned Taker-Man there's ever been.
    
    Dridigar Pensk [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 3 (Plate-Mail), HD 7 (62 hp), #AT 2, DG 1d6+2 (sword, mace or catch-pole), SV F7, ML 11. Special: 18 STR. Cast Charm Feral up to three times per day.]
    
    Catcher-Crew (3d4) [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 5 (Chain-Mail), HD 3, #AT 1, DG 1d6 (Blunted-Spear or Binding-Clubs), SV F3, ML 11.]

Agents of the Comprachicos (Wermspittle)

The Comprachicos, we insist, had nothing in common with the gipsies. The gipsies were a nation; the Comprachicos were a compound of all nations—the lees of a horrible vessel full of filthy waters. The Comprachicos had not, like the gipsies, an idiom of their own; their jargon was a promiscuous collection of idioms: all languages were mixed together in their language; they spoke a medley. Like the gipsies, they had come to be a people winding through the peoples; but their common tie was association, not race. At all epochs in history one finds in the vast liquid mass which constitutes humanity some of these streams of venomous men exuding poison around them. The gipsies were a tribe; the Comprachicos a freemasonry—a masonry having not a noble aim, but a hideous handicraft...

The Man Who Laughs, by Victor Hugo

---

Ten Agents of the Comprachicos

1. Rudarl is a Minimus, a type of artificially-produced dwarf created by deliberately stunting the development of a young child using bindings, clamps, metal frames, knot-grass and a host of other techniques. Constantly wracked by pain, Rudarl is a product of the Comprachico family known by the sign of the Black Unicorn. They have his three children and his wife. His family is supposed to be safe, so long as he does what he is told. He knows all too well what the Comprachicos are capable of doing to his loved ones. That's why he serves them. For now.
2. Alnuf was a Forager until he fell through a rotted roof and landed in a vat of Drab Jellies being cultivated by a mad artist. His entire left side is permanently a colorless dish-water gray. It seems harmless enough, but he's convinced his peculiar skin condition is what has turned people against him. He works for the Three-Toed Claw every now and then. They don't judge him. Nothing heavy. None of the dirty stuff. He doesn't have the stomach for that sort of thing. He just handles courier jobs, makes deliveries and pay-outs. That sort of thing. That way no one gets hurt by what he does. He really believes that.
3. Gritta is an Eloi who works for those who know how to display the token of a laughing monkey cast in green-brass without drawing undue attention. She doesn't make much of an impression. Even her own family tends to overlook her. Except for the Cheshire Grin that a pimp cut into her face with a broken bottle. They never found his body.
4. Datchmir has worked for the Crook-Tongues for three dozen Winters and more. As a Perdu he has always enjoyed a certain advantage over their usual agents. Until tonight. Some interloper botched a deal three months in the making. An entire shipment was lost, running loose through the Low-Streets even now. And Datchmir needed to reach a surgeon soon. There was Achromic Powder in the bullet he had lodged in his chest.
5. Gleer the Invunche is twisted in more than just their body. He squats fat and toad-like atop his usual stool at the end of the bar in some dismal, unnamed tap room on Plover Lane, sipping Black Liquor and trying to keep the Black Swans from finding out he has been selling their secrets to a group of vigilantes. Little does Gleer realize, he's being used to lead the would-be abolitionists into a trap. It's not the first time, but the Black Liquor makes it hard to keep some things straight.
6. Korzu ran away from the Circus, Bairini's Big Top no less. He was going to be a sailor on an airship. Like he read about in his family's stash of old magazines and other relics from their time on the road as a travelling company. Of course that all ended many years ago. As he found out to his chagrin and dismay one bitterly cold night. He probably would have starved, if the Butcher Boys hadn't gotten to him first. But Granny Trosh took him in and gave him a job. He's been a good boy. Loyal, dedicated, productive. He expects to take over for Granny when she retires. The crew has different ideas. That's why they've paid a pack of Ractur to see that Korzu disappears one of these nights. Preferably by way of a Loathsome Mass or something similar.
7. Doktor Heronimond Wu, late of Breneva, used to work on retainer for some of the Comprachico families that operated out of the capital before the war. It was his great misfortune to have been found out, tried and placed into exile only three days before the city fell. He hates this place. He doesn't like to talk about his life in the old country, but when he gets more than a little drunk he'll show off his right hand--the one that he keeps gloved all the time--and regale an appreciative audience with his tale of how he avoided being crucified, only to be rendered a shadow of his former self, for the most part. What makes it all one big farce, once he gets going, is that he cannot afford a license to practice medicine in Wermspittle. So he has fallen back upon his old connections and sordid acquaintances in a certain disagreeable trade. He reeks of cheap gin and curdled guilt. In the Spring he gently weeps for the children as he sips his armagnac or amontillado.
8. Lurim is studying the soft spells favored by those who hope to get somewhere within the Black Swans. It hasn't been easy. He attends night classes taught by a clique of uppity apprentices trying to earn better wages than they'd get serving as Foragers. The one spell he most wants to learn is Charm, but they never seem to cover that on the nights he can make class.
9. Murzane has a hard time doing as he's told. He and the elders who run his family have butted heads more and more often since he returned from his three years service in the Franzikaner Unterkorps. He suspects that a large part of the friction stems from his being Half-Morlock. His father's family never approved of his mother, nor of him. But he is still family, so the Black Unicorns try to find him things to do, if only to keep him out of mischief. Little do they know that he's seriously considering the offer to join a band of Takers who have far more respect for his skills and abilities than his family ever did. It might even be worth it, just to give his grandparents a shock.
10. Hrumido is a purveyor of damaged goods. He used to be in 'acquisitions,' but no more. He quit. He got religion, kicked the habit (who knew that even a 3% solution could be so difficult to beat?), and got out of that filthy trade his family has been doing for generations. With a small loan from his maternal grandfather an the help of a couple of cousins, he set himself up in business for himself. He has an arrangement with the family. He buys the defectives, the bungled and the botched specimens (at a substantial family discount) and re-sells them to researchers, experimental investigators and the like for whatever the market will bear. He feels good about himself these days.

A Dozen Possible Missions, Jobs and Assigned Tasks

1. Keep tabs on someone, either a Player Character or one of their extended circle of family, friends or acquaintances.
2. Provide a little discrete discouragement to some nosy busy-body. If they don't take the hint, escalate things.
3. Keep possible do-gooders and unwanted witnesses out of a particular alley for (1d4) hours tonight.
4. The contact they were supposed to meet had been drowned within Spectral Brine. They must have fought like hell before getting stuffed in that barrel like that. 
5. Track down a small group of Refugees from Istovia. They are protecting a famous torturer who used to serve the Arch Duke of Malzard. She's supposed to be something of an artist. Those who work under the sign of the Black Swan wish to discuss certain matters of potentially mutual interest with the one they call The Agonatrix.
6. Deliver a Spectral Arquebus to representatives of a Fantomist Cabal. They are supposed to pass the agent a calling card depicting a flaming skull with the word 'Remorse' on the back. Avoid any unnecessary entanglements, especially with vengeful Barrow-Men (see Entry 20).
7. It was supposed to be a simple abduction. No one told them that these kids were definitely Not Alright. Now these Feral Children are hunting after them.
8. Some loud-mouthed Illigom has taken-up residence near the overgrown section of the Aerodrome. Their Companion is some sort of would-be hero who has crossed the family know by the sign of the Three-Toed-Claw one too many times. Spreading a few false leads and planting some incriminating evidence ought to get these meddlers into plenty of trouble, well away from the family's business interests.
9. A sack of 2,000 black disks must be handed-off to a one-eyed Ourang at Midnight in the third booth on the right at Sibillent Sue's Sustainery for services rendered. Do not go upstairs to the Succulatrium no matter what. That is all they know.
10. Follow and report back on the movements of an otherwise nondescript recent arrival.
11. Pay the bar-tab and gambling debts for a burned-out Dowser who the Red Spade family wants to keep out of commission.
12. Place an order for another 600 pounds of Hard Candy with one of the local Candymen. It's a rush order. Replacement for a lot shipment.

Fine Young Cannibals (20 Morlock NPCs)

When the airships bombed the Southbound railway, things got tough for the Morlock engineers. Then the bridge over the Suryava River was bombed by anarchists and the three competing railroad companies withdrew from Wermspittle. The Morlocks and their families were left behind. Abandoned just like the mangled and twisted rails and the gutted station houses. Their grandparents' dreams of building shining empires of electricity and steel through the dark woods and stark mountains died. Some joined forces with the Deep Engineers of the Sewer Militia, others set off to follow the Unterrails to Aman Utal to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Those that remained have had to adapt to a new way of life...

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Twenty Morlock NPCs

1. Xugra Malkive [AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (+1 mucoid leather), HD2, #AT 1, DG 1d6+1 (serated gladius), SV F1, ML 9] Hateful, spiteful, and cruel, Xugra does not work well with others, nor does he share loot, meat or credit with anyone else. He served briefly as a caravan guard during the darkest part of last winter, but that went badly. He lost half a finger and gained several scars fending off some desperate bandits who blundered across his employer's group by accident in the middle of a snowstorm. He hates snow. If he gets enough money put together Xugra plans to go get himself trained as a torturer's apprentice. He collects disreputable medical devices and other questionable mechanisms for potential use on future clients.
2. Malisse [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 5 (barbed chainmail), HD 4, #AT 1, DG 2d4+2 (bastard sword + 17 STR), SV F4, ML 10] Malisse prefers to let her sword do the talking. It is an ancient weapon capable of speaking six languages, not all of which are dead or forgotten. The blade does double damage against bronze armor. It appears to be grown from some peculiarly lurid form of pink-orange salt or crystal. On a natural 20 the blade causes the victims flesh to shrivel into the consistency of jerky, inflicting triple damage.
3. Grud Magru [AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (Wermscale Mail), HD 3, #AT 1, DG 1d6 (double-tapper snap-hammer), SV F3, ML 7] Grud had been badly mauled by a pack of Slashers. He nearly bled out before he was rescued by a group of refugees from Bandigar. He owes them a blood-debt.
4. Neeva [AL N, MV 120'(40'), AC 6 (Urozt Lamellar), HD 2, #AT 1, DG 1d6+2 (Mace +17 STR), SV C2, ML 10] Neeva was kicked out of her adoptive mother's home for eating the cat. She was in training to become a Midwife. Now she isn't sure what to do with herself, though she does seem to have some knack for learning spells, if she could only find a teacher willing to take her on...
5. Tagga Kilb [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 5 (squarescale), HD 5, #AT 2, DG 1d6/1d4 (hand-axe & dagger), SV F5, ML 6] Cowardly and cursed, Tagga mutilated his own ears in order to stop the terrible pain brought on by his hyper-sensitivity. Unfortunately, even though he is now deaf, his sensitivity to vibrations remains painfully acute. He has a 80% chance of going berserk around bells, even when they remain unrung. Just the sight of the things is enough to set him off.
6. Ruj Kilb [AL C, MV 100' (30'), AC 8 (coarse robes), HD 3, #AT 1, DG 1d4+acid (glass dagger), SV M3, ML 4, Spells: 2,1; Level One: Magic Missile, Shield, Sleep Level Two: ESP, Kazwen's Reflections, Knock] Tagga's little brother and an even worse coward. Neither brother will talk about it willingly, but somehow it is Ruj's fault for his brother's curse, just as it is Tagga's fault that Ruj is now slightly lame due to having had his legs broken and then inexpertly repaired.
7. Hothry [AL N, MV 120'(40'), AC 4 (banded mail), HD 2, #AT 1, DG 1d6+3 (bad-hammer +18 STR), SV F2, ML 10] Hothry finished his third year as a blacksmith's apprentice before things went from bad to worse. He ate his mentor to survive a particularly bad winter in one of the low land enclaves. All his teeth have been replaced with yellow metal spikes (bite does 1d4+3).
8. Galdje [AL C, MV 90' (30'), AC 7 (tatters), HD 1, #AT 1, DG 1d4 (scratch knife), SV F1, ML 3] Mad, drooling and given to random outbursts, Galdje serves as a guard to anyone who'll pay him in fingernails.
9. Ruvva Nal [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 3 (corroded grave mail), HD 4, #AT 1, DG 1d6 (four-spike), SV F4, ML 6] Blind in one eye, Ruvva was raised as a grave-robber until his entire clan was wiped out by a mummified abhuman sorcerer one of his kin awakened in a drunken act of self-destructive hubris. Ruvva tries to avoid dead places these days, as best he can, but being down on his luck, he'll go where he's paid to go. He believes that his great-grandfather was an Engineer, but he has no proof and no way to find out more about that at present. Not without some help.
10. Jalig [AL N, MV 120', (40'), AC 6 (bruthem leather), HD 2, #AT 1, DG 1d4x2 (short bow & wire-head arrows or twin daggers), SV F2, ML 10] Amoral opportunist and kleptomaniac. Jalig drinks only blood (he is superstitious and thinks it makes him lucky as well as virile). For some reason he wishes not to discuss, Jalig fears the color green and avoids it if at all possible.
11. Sashmu Yorra [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (knuckle bone-studded leather), HD 4, #AT 1, DG 1d6 (short sword), SV M2, ML 8, spells: 2,1, Level One: Ventriloquism, Hold Portal, Floating Disk, Voorish Sign Level Two: Detect Invisibility, Levitate] A former pit-fighter turned sorcerer, Sashmu has begun a new life for himself and doesn't want to remember what he used to do back in the pits. He is obsessed with capturing a Horla. He has worked out a scheme whereby he thinks that he ought to be able to make a Horla kit into a familiar, or so he intends to find out.
12. Yodt [AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (riveted leather), HD 3, #AT 3, DG 1d4/1d4/1d4+2 (claw/claw/bite), SV F3, ML Special: Immune to all morale effects] Sullen, surly and filthy, Yodt growls and grumbles, rarely uttering a coherent word. His hair is long, dirty and matted. His skin has a greenish cast to it. His eyes are dark with an oily, unnatural sheen and his body is unnaturally emaciated, the limbs disproportionately elongated in a disturbing, almost arachnid manner. Each of his fingers ends in a gleaming hooked steel claw rudely bonded to the bone during some weird ritual he went through in his childhood. He works as a guard or a fighter, killer or bandit, so long as he is paid in jewels or exotic fabrics. They say Yodt maintains a place out in the Burned Over District, some attic he's converted into a nest or lair where he goes on Bajji binges whenever he's flush with cash.
13. Kraux [AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 3 (transparent plate), HD 5, #AT 2, DG 3d4/1d6/1d6 (4-barrel attic-gonne, short sword, hand-axe), SV F5, ML 11] Ambitious and cautious, Kraux sees himself becoming a Baron one of these days. He literally keeps a list of enemies and friends in his belt pouch. His mother rode with a notorious band of forest brigands, his grandfather hijacked an airship and was never seen again. No one speaks about his father. No one knows why. Kraux intends to make his mark in Wermspittle, one way or another.
14. Lujia [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (patched leather), HD 2, #AT 1, DG 1d6/1d4 (hammer or dagger), SV T2, ML 9] Lujia is a Forager working under indenturement to Cazwell, a Powder-monger who has staked a claim over a three block section along Pym Street. She recently discovered a Weak Point in an abandoned Property, but only barely escaped from a particularly nasty Wet Spot. She does not want to tell her master about her discovery, but she also doesn't have the means to properly go explore what might be on the other side of the Weak Point, not on her own. Perhaps she can find some backers or possibly a partner or two...
15. Bosk Dalt [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (embroidered heavy wool longcoat), HD 3, #AT 2, DG 1d4+3/1d6+3 (scalpel and bone saw), SV C3, ML 8] Disgraced and disbarred, Bosk has been drummed-out of the Medical College for undisclosed transgressions. He is banned from practicing medicine legally, but dabbles in a bit of quackery every now and then. His plan is to accumulate a collection of samples suitable to gain the interest of the Curator of Curiosities or another such luminary, and use his guile and whatever inducements he can bring to bear to get readmitted as a Surgeon-in-training.
16. Tangree [AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (rags), HD 3, #AT 1, DG 1d4 (bodkin), SV M3, ML 4] Hungry, cold and emotionless, Tangree is dreamscarred from an encounter with a Gloomswallow. She was once considered almost pretty, in a disturbing sort of way. These days she takes no effort in maintaining her appearance, letting her hair get tangled and filthy. Her breath reeks horribly, possibly from a rotted tooth. She has trouble remembering any of her spells except Oneiric Bubble while awake and is prone to fits of somnabulism.
17. Brodin [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 4 (looplink mail), HD 4, #AT 1, DG 1d8 (battle axe), SV F4, ML 10] Masked, gloved, and cloaked, Brodin rarely speaks. He serves anyone who'll meet his price of one pound of flesh per day. It needn't be their own flesh; he's not a purist or fanatic or anything like that.
18. Jadz Belik [AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 6 (boiled chitin), HD 3, #AT 1, DG 1d6 (scimitar), SV F3, ML 8 (3 around invisible things)] Jadz lost his left arm to an Unseen Beast that he encountered below the Second Cistern, where someone had tethered the thing up like a guard beast. Jadz has returned to the place six or seven times now. He wants to kill the creature, but so far nothing he's tried has worked. He's contemplating what sort of poisons might work best.
19. Luo Koftra [AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 8 (loincloth), HD 4, #AT 1, DG 1d4/1d6 (fist/seed-pod sword), SV M4, ML 10, Immune to Fear Effects, Spells: 2,2 Level One: Charnel Breath, Charm Person, Obscure Magic, Hold Portal, Darkness, Sleep Level Two: Arcane Lock, Knock, Locate Object, Web] Luo is unhinged, even for a morlock. He whispers obscenities under his breath almost constantly and has taken an intense interest in personal scarification which he sees as a way to imprint sorcerous knowledge directly into his flesh. It is unclear whether Luo is actually possessed, pretending to be, or if he's just deranged...possibly a combination of all three.
20. Haldim [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 5 (sharpscale), HD 3, #AT 1, DG 1d6+2 (hammer + 16 STR), SV F3, ML 9] Formerly of the Cellar Inspectors, Haldim was dismissed for taking kick-backs. Normally this wouldn't have been much of a problem, however, one of the locations he passed-over in return for a bribe was infested by a huge Type IV Gobbling Grout that broke loose and caused extensive property damage during the Spring Revels. He spent his ill-gotten funds on a decent bit of armor and a fancy volley-gun. He still has the armor, but the volley-gun was lost in his all-too-narrow escape from a Yelg Froth. Haldim hasn't been able to stomach anything fermented ever since. If he had the money, or thought he could convince some suitably gullible adventurers into it, he'd like to recover his volley-gun.