_______________________________________________ Short description A thin, sallow faced grifter Long description Tall and slender, the grifter is wearing dusty leather boots and a pair of elongated ebon trousers below an loose fitting linen tunic. A wide brimmed felt hat is worn at a rakish angle, partially shrouding pinched human features. A worn grey eyepatch rests over one eye and boney fingers fondle a cloth pouch dangling from a thin leather belt. Questions & Responses Ask grifter about name My name? Well that's not really important. But feel free to call me 'grifter' if it makes you feel better. Ask grifter about eyepatch There's no truth in the rumor that I lost my eye looking through keyholes. None whatsoever! Ask grifter about business Well i'm not employed for my good looks. Its my business to know things. I could tell you some tales.. Ask grifter about invasions I keep my ear to the ground. If I hear anything, I'll let you know... for a price of course. Ask grifter about family If you're asking about my family then you're going to be disappointed. My personal business is my personal business. Ask grifter about hat Yes, it's quite a hat isn't it. It's not for sale! Idles The grifter drums his fingers against the surface of his pouch and glances about him furtively. The grifter firmly tugs the brim of his hat, partially obscuring his face. The grifter glances behind him and surruptitously slides his eyepatch to the other eye The grifter raises a foot and rubs the toe of his boot on the back of his trousers. The grifter lifts his hat, combing stray strands of hair with slender fingers before repositioning the hat. The grifter stumbles momentarily and chuckles to himself as he regains his balance. Comments ___________________ Medieval Minstrels were first and foremost entertainers and are remembered for their lasting image wearing bright multi-colored costumes riding on a costumed horse from castle to castle, singing as he went with a lutes thrown across his back. Their costume is usually red and white in colour and consists of a double-breasted jacket with a scissors tailcoat, tie, striped trousers, a tall hat and white gloves. Floor length robe with troubadour sleeves with contrasting lining and frogged neckline closure. The minstrel appears to be mature. Bright auburn eyes within a gently creased face beam from beneath a floppy velveteen hat with black feather accents. A black velvet surcoat with metallic embroidered trim, is worn laced over an ivory neck-ruff chemise and black leggings. Slender fingers cradle an unfretted maple lute and a tapered plectrum. The minstril swats an annoying fly with the barrel of the lute and inspects his instrument for any signs of damage. The minstril deftly removes his floppy hat, revealing a shock of red hair. Wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, he readjusts the hat and grins inanely. The minstril raises the plectrum as if to play but instead picks his teeth with the tapered end. He sighs happily as an annoying piece of food is dislodged. The minstil adjusts his lute, cradling the instrument's neck fondly. He strums the lute producing sharp, tuneless notes. Seemingly oblivious to the lack of tempo and tune, his taps his foot enthusiastically. The minstril straps the lute across his back. He produces a worn metal bowl from beneath his surcoat and extends it expectently. Raising his head confidently, the minstril clears his throat and commences to sing with a voice ranging from alto to bass. Words incorrectly sung are interspersed with a rasping hum. Ask mintrel about music My father always wanted me to be a farmer, but music was my calling. You may find this hard to believe but I am self taught. ask minstrel about lute This instrument has been played by some of the greatest bards in the land. I have it in the assurance of the pedlar who sold it to me. Ask minstril about events I can perform at weddings and funerals for a small fee. I have quite a range of tunes. People will tell you that they have honestly never heard anything like it before. Ask minstril about bards Many of the bards in this town will willingly sing to your items to discern their hidden secrets. Ask minstril about family Who has time for a family? I have my music and the world for a stage. Who could ask for more. As mintril about help I am developing my ability to sing to items. One day I hope to be able to assist you _________________________________ an elderly suited councilman Short and portly, the Councilman sports a tight jacket over a white shirt with slightly fray collars. Crisply seamed ebon trousers rest below a large paunce. Wisps of grey hair surround a bald patch and beads of sweat nestle upon a moustached upper lip. Plump fingers grip official looking documentation. Ask councilman about town A lot of the town's history can be discerned through the documentation and artifacts in our museum. I'd encourage you to visit. Ask Councilman about Council I may be out of office now, but one day I am sure I will be voted back into power. Ask councilman about vote I hope I can count on your vote in the future. Ask councilman about policies Policies? Well these will be made clear in the fullness of time of course. Ask Councilman about name My given name is Uriah. But you can call me Councilman Fulsome The Councilman pulls out a quill from his jacket with a flourish and places a deliberate tick on one of the documents in his hand. The Councilman raises a hand and nods enthusiatically, flashing a pearly white smile. The Councilman removes a pamphlet from his pile of documents and thrusts it outwards expectantly. The Councilman produces a discolored handkerchief and dabs his upper lip before returning it to his trouser pocket. The Councilman pats the head of a passing child and with an undisguised look of disgust, wipes his hand on the back of his trousers. _________________________________ A bespeckled aged curator The curator is aged with the passing years reflected upon his creased face. Cloudy grey eyes appear above bushy white eyebrows. Pursed lips are barely perceptible within his unkempt beard. A drab jumper shrouds his upper body. Belted loose fitting linen trousers and white socks in old leather sandals cover his lower half. A pair of oval spectacles attached to lanyards, perch on the end of his nose. Ask Curator about artefacts The town contains many items of note. Some are quite rare you know. It takes a special eye to spy them out. Ask curator about history Look about you! There is history in the walls of every building, statue, monument and speck of dirt in this town. But you have to look! Ask curator about museum It's my fondest wish to open my own museum one day. It will rival anything that is or was. It'll happen too.. mark my words! I just need a few more items... Ask curator about Rone Wehnimer No I didn't know him personally. I may be old but i'm not that old! The curator picks up an object from the ground. He examines it closely, shrugs and then discards it. The curator removes his spectacles, and breathing upon each lens polishes them against his jumper, before replacing them on the end of his nose. The curator glances at a distant object and rubs his hands gleefully. The curator stoops to pick a stone from his sandals and rises slowly, gingerly placing a hand on his lower back. The curator whistles to himself, raising his palm upwards to the sky, testing for rain. The curator removed some coins from his pocket, counting them several times before returning them to his picket. _______________________________________________ A voluptous mature woman The mature woman has seen better days. Dark bedraggled hair sits upon her perfectly round head like a mop. Plastered makeup barely enhances a prematurely aged face. Thin lips cover intermittent teeth within a crooked mouth caked with bright red lipstick. A moth eaten fox stole is wrapped around her shoulders, partially covering a voluptous figure within a green ribbed bodice and short fur-lined skirt. Laddered black stocking adorn her legs and dirt caked high heeled shoes rest upon her feet. her hands clutch a large ratskin purse. Ask woman about business Business has been quite slow recently. The passing trade isn't what it used to be. Ask woman about bathhouse Ahhh I remember the good old days of the bathhouse. Ask woman about name They call me Galia Phryne but you can call me whatever you want deary Galia flutters her eyelids and smiles crookedly revealing blackened teeth Galia drops her hand to her side, raising her skirt slightly to flash her thigh. Galia pulls at her bodice downward with a jerk, revealing a little too much clevage Galia shifts her weight to one side and tosses her head back provokivively Galia wiggles her hips and give a knowing wink Galia rummages in her purse and retrieves some lipstick which she applies liberally Galia scratches retrieve a stray hair from her forehead and returns it to the mop of hair nestling upon her head _____________________________ An willowly peddler Tall and wirey, the peddler sports dyed black hair, combed back in waves. Sharp green eyes peer from a sallow face with hollow cheeks. Heavy leather boots and a pair of black and grey striped trousers rest below a loose fitting cotton tunic. A large unbuttoned coat flaps open revealing occasional glimpses of inner pockets. His hands clench the twisted straps of a bulging grey sack, laden with wares. The peddler heaves his sack to eye level and inspects the outer material intensely. He brushes a hand over the surface and lowers the sack to his side. The peddler opens his cloak, revealing a cotton lining with a number of items protruding from inner pockets and dangling from reinforced loops. The peddler lifts his sack with great effort, assessing it's weight before dropping it slowly The peddler removes a silver spoon from an inside pocket and polishes it against the fabric of his coat before returning it to his pocket The peddler stoops over his sack, slowly rearranging the contents, redistributing the weight within. The peddler removes a boot, examining the flapping sole and making minor repairs before returning it to his foot. The peddler glances over his shoulder before taking a swig from a brown bottle and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The peddler takes a bite of a sandwich, picking at the stray crumbs from his cloak and placing them in his mouth. Ask peddler about wares I have something for all occasions and at reasonable prices. Ask peddler about name My name is Peddler. My grandfather is Peddler, my father is Peddler and I am peddler. Gets a little confusing at home I can tell you! _________________________________________ A lame human beggar The beggar has dark grey eyes are slightly sunken on a face smudged with dirt. A bushy moustache merges with an bedraggled beard. A drab plumed hat sits limply on his head. The tail of his off-white over- sized shirt flaps over the back of discolored knee-length pantaloons, secured by a knotted cord. A canvas bag hangs to one side, with the strap draped over one shoulder. A gnarled wooden crutch nestled under his left arm, supports a slightly bent left leg. The beggar unties the cord around his waist. He tugs his pantaloons upwards, and secures the cord with a double knot. The beggar removes his bag from his shoulder dropping it to the ground for a moment. He rubs his shoulder gingerly before replacing the bag. The beggar leans heavily on his crutch and holds out a hand expectantly. The beggar stumbles for a moment as his crutch catches against something on the ground. The beggar lifts his crutch, shaking it in frustration before regaining his composure and placing the crutch back under his arm. The beggar picks up a discarded cigar butt and places it approvingly in his bag. The beggar scratches his beard vigoursly. The beggar reaches into his sack and produces a dog-eared picture of young children, which he slowly displays to those around him. The beggar raises a coin to his mouth. He bites down hard on the coin and nodding approvingly, places it in his bag.. The beggar removes his hat, thrusting it out in front of him and moving it from left to right in hope.