[Characters] The Companions

[moozuba]

A listing of both player and non-player characters.

NPC: The Baroness Baroness Portia Von Grimmler, Human Aristocrat Background: The young wife of Hanz Von Grimmler. A close, personal friend of the dear Prince Prospero. A socialite extraordinaire who prides herself on her knowledge of current events, fashion, and everyone else's business. Personality: Arrogant, flirtatious, sassy, snide and dismissive. She is new money but wears the title of Baroness well, raising the esteem of her reclusive husband by significant degrees among many of the upper nobility. She's very particular about etiquette, particularly as regards her new title. To friends and those who rank above her, she is Portia. To equals, she is "Dame Von Grimmler." To those beneath her, she is "The Baroness Von Grimmler" and neither her given nor maiden name are to be used under any circumstances.

NPC: The Baron Baron Hanz Von Grimmler, Human Aristocrat/Expert Background: The reclusive, notoriously wealthy Baron and only surviving Von Grimmler. Widower of more than ten years to Baroness Yulia (Gotlieb) Von Grimmler. Recently wed the lovely Lady Portia Salomon, some twenty-five years his junior (he is 48, she is 23). Personality: Said to be curt and dismissive of those beneath him, in actuality he is exceptionally polite to both his household staff and shows deference to his young wife. He can, however, be eccentric to the point of rudeness. Etiquette is not his strong suit and much of his vaunted nobility has suffered decay during his long seclusion. He is rumored to be obsessed with history, science and art. Known to be a patron to a number of academics and artists on the fringes of their respective fields, suggesting a fascination with the obscure and arcane.

NPC: The Butler Sebastian Collinsworth, Human Commoner AKA Mister Collinsworth, Collinsworth Background: Longtime head of household staff for Baron Von Grimmler. Son of a chambermaid and a valet in the house of the late Baron Heinrich Von Grimmler (Hanz's father). Personality: Highly professional when on duty, committed to serving the Baron, his wife, and any guests they may entertain. Seems to take pride in his work and maintains a respectful distance from both his employer and Beatrix. Few have ever observed him outside his role as the head of the Baron's household.

NPC: The Maidservant Beatrix Fowler, Half-Elven Commoner Background: Life prior to service at the Von Grimmler estate is unknown. Age unknown. Served as Baroness Yulia's personal attendant, now works as a more general household maid, tidying, cooking, a bit of everything except personal attendance to the Baron, which is a job reserved for Collinsworth. Presumably, she now attends to Baroness Portia. Personality: Sour and suspicious. Does not appear to care much for the new Baroness. Respects Collinsworth.

[DaMavster]

Baron Ambrose Bartholomew Name: Baron Ambrose Bartholomew Race: Human Class: Aristocrat Physical Description: Ambrose is 35 years old: old enough to know better, but young enough to still take unnecessary risks. Tall at 6'1", he also appears somewhat thin at 155lbs. At first glance one might not think he was very handsome, but Ambrose knows his strengths and weaknesses and manages to play up the former while downplaying the latter. He takes great pride in his personal appearance and always maintains a neatly combed head of brown hair and a clean shaven face. Rounding out his appearance is a wardrobe befitting a minor noble such as himself. Personality: Ambrose has little respect for those beneath his station, but is rarely overt in his dislike. But with members of his own class or above, Ambrose works hard to become one of the most charming members of their social circle. Not exactly the life of the party, Ambrose still manages to captivate audiences with his stories and jokes. There are a few scandalous rumors circulating that Ambrose is not a chaste man, though nothing definitive has ever been shown. The truth of the matter is, Ambrose lives for the thrill of seducing women into his bed, especially women married to his fellow nobles. Through secret whispers, carefully crafted letters, and glances from across a dinner table, he lures his prey into believing that he loves them. Then, when Ambrose has had his fun and tires of his current conquest, tis a simple matter to blackmail the poor woman into keeping quiet about their dalliance or he'll shame her before her husband and everyone. So while rumors are whispered behind his back, they manage to stay rumors thanks to his shrewd and ruthless treatment of the women involved. In short, Ambrose is a weasel of a man. Born into power and without any family, he has never denied himself any of his desires while he can do so with a minimum of risk to himself. Perhaps his only saving grace is his sense of loyalty to close friends. He may commit adultery with their wife and then blackmail her to keep quiet, but he would rather sell half his possessions than to see a friend's business venture fail. Background: Ambrose and the Baron Hanz Von Grimmler have never really seen much of each other, despite their similar station and shared social circle. Ambrose was just too busy ingratiating himself to the other nobles to pay much attention to the recluse who funded crackpots and mad artists. But when the recluse marries a woman far prettier than he deserves, that very much piques Ambrose's interest. After having been introduced to her at a mutual friend's party, Ambrose determined that he simply must have the Baroness for himself. Through maneuvering, and through the good word of common acquaintances, Ambrose has managed to secure for himself an invitation to dine with Baron Hanz and his lovely bride. It cost him some sums of money to pass himself off as a fellow patron of the sciences and arts, but can a price really be put on a beauty such as Portia? Post Frequency/Availability: I can post up to once a day during the week as needed. Weekends are more iffy.

[OllieNorth]

The Monk Name: Brother Giovani Hettore Piabo Race: Half-Elf Class: Adept (Itinerant Monk) Age: 29 Firelight painted the common room of the Baron's Favour, an old but well-kept public house in the town of Grimmler. Tucked into a corner of the dim room was a small table, a threadbare chair, and a small lamp. The bright flame danced in the drafty air of the room shadows washing turbulently across the high cheekbones and smooth cheeks of the woolen-robed figure lounging on the seat. A beaten gold cross hung from his neck, and he wore the red cap of the Ordo di Sanguinari. The oddly-named order consisted of holy men from the Southern lands dedicated to the discovery of the old works and relics of the Holy Church. Their search led them into many dank and festering lands, and as a result they tended to be quite conversant with the various heresies and pagan cults. Many speculated that this had led to their strange moniker. The truth was known to few. In fact, their delving into secrets mouldering in ancient tombs led many of the brothers to drink, and their robes often bore winestains that they jokingly, if ruefully, referred to as 'bloodstains.' The young half-elf, green eyes bright above high olive cheekbones, was no exception. The battered chalice by his hand had been refilled a number of times. The innkeeper, had, in fact, lost count. While no high feat for one whose numerary abilities were severely hampered by the long-ago hatchet that had taken two fingers on his left hand, it was still an impressive feat for the slightly built holy man. After some time, Giovani closed the book, marking his page with the over-careful precision of the truly drunk. He squinted at the barkeep for a moment, then tossed a handful of coins on the bar as he staggered by. Leaning on his gnarled maple walking staff, he shuffled out into the innyard, appearing headed for the privy. Some time later he returned, suspiciously alert and straight-backed. Only a terribly bloodshot left eye gave any indication of his prior state as he calmly passed the bar with a nod and made his way quietly up the stairs to his room. He stood next to his small bed, then a quick charm and a wave of his hand brought a chorus of tiny pops from the bed. A number of tiny wisps of smoke spoke of the vermin that had previously invested the straw and he sighed. "Alas, the accommodations are at least serviceable here. That cantrip would have merely offended the denizens of the mattresses at the last town." Opening the book again, he peered at the drawing on the page, a lurid illustration of what was claimed to be a "Blacke Mass moste vile, calling upone the Dred Poweres of Morrigane, Consorte of the Bertayer". Spitting to clear his throat of the vileness of the picture (and sspelling, grammar, and penmanship) of the book, he knelt. For some time his head was bowed in prayer. Finally he stood up, removing his boots and setting the staff next to his bed. He then sat down on the cot, reached under the bed into his pack, and removed a sloshing bottle. Uncorking it, he shut the book, placed it in his pack, and sat back. He then proceeded to drink until he passed out.

[Darkling]

Doctor Quinn Dobranoc Appearance & Personality Doctor Quinn Dobranoc The Widowed Surgeon "More a matter of principle, I'm afraid, operable cadavers are only marginally more difficult to come by than the kind of poisons that make them. Funny, that; trade secret." Race: Human Sex: Female Class: Alchemist Age: 29 Height: 5"6' Weight: 110lbs Quinn is a girl of slight build, petite proportions, and a normally well composed and demure appearance. When outside the realms of the surgeon's room and out of her smock and mask, she tends to wear clothing that speaks of seriousness and propriety. Pale due to her lack of exposure to sun in the last half a decade, her raven's black hair stands in stark contrast to her ivory skin, and is ordinarily kept in braids or a bun to keep it from straying in front of her face. A pair of small oval spectacles perch upon her nose, meant to magnify the smaller writings she finds herself poring over day by day, behind which are a pair of cold blue eyes. The widowed Dobranoc is by all rights an attractive woman, but tends to have a chill around her, even at her most jovial. Often bearing a wry smile and a calculating look, she occasionally puts others at unease, but finds herself in welcome company among her more intellectually minded peers. Though Quinn has a clever tongue and a talent for the arts of the socialite, she often surveys her surroundings from behind a stony-faced guise, one that most have trouble peering by. When asked on topics of her study, research or surgical practices, however, she is practically brimming with topics of conversation. Once her colder facade is brought down, she is as personable and friendly as they come, though with something of an obsessive streak in her fields of interest - the curse of the academic. While able to flirt and banter with some of the best of them, Quinn has an underlying temper that threatens to burst from her at a moment's notice, especially if one is to question the nature of her work or the integrity of her late husband. Should one avoid such pitfalls while engaging with her, they'll find a delightfully talented conversationalist with an infatuation for science and wit above all else. Background   Married to a lesser noble with a heart and mind for art and science, Quinn spent her adolescence and early womanhood by her husband's side, a brilliant man in the fields of nature and medicine by the name of Thaddeus Dobranoc. Though his wealth was not as limitless as some of his fellows, Thaddeus's passion and dedication to his work was surpassed by none, and his work as a surgeon admired by many. This was enough for his family and peers to mostly forgive his singular transgression; he was one who married for love rather than status. Quinn, having left behind a life as a seamstress to find herself in a world of more means than she could've imagined, found herself intensely fascinated by her lover's pursuits. Thaddeus, being of a progressive spirit and mind, resolved to give Quinn as much of an education as he could muster from his own teachings and paid classes at local universities. Acting as his nurse, her talent for suturing and stitching came in handy, as did her quick mind and grasp of new concepts. It was not long before Quinn herself was an accredited doctor working dutifully at her husband's side, and even if slightly unorthodox, the pair had garnered something of a reputation. The couple had two children of their own, Diana and Jonathan Dobranoc, but Quinn was relentless in her study and her efforts to work alongside her husband - not even childbirth could slow her down. Together, they did everything in their power to further their understanding of nature and the deeper mysteries, turning to lesser understood sciences such as alchemy to further their delving. All the while, she remained a devoted wife and mother, raising their two children as best she was able and engaging in the niceties of social interactions with her peers and pushing Thaddeus to host and attend the various noble gatherings that earned him his grants and funding. However, Thaddeus soon fell ill after Diana's eighth birthday, his body wracked by an affliction that killed him slowly from the inside out. Now a widow, and heartbroken as she was, Quinn found the life of a noble to be too difficult to bear; the parties and the galas and the gossip were simply no longer attractive to her. Though she still cared deeply for her children, her reputation as a surgeon and doctor were not nearly as advanced as her late husband's, and fewer people came to seek out her medical expertise. Rather than attempt to alleviate these concerns and advance her name and standing, she withdrew from the world, only seeing her children and her research. For years now, Quinn has laboured in seclusion and silence, only interacting with others when it is necessary and often finding herself in fey and sullen moods. Though she has ventured out to the world since her husband's death, those occurrences become fewer and fewer with each passing year, and normally involve her desperately seeking funding to supplement her own dwindling coin in pursuit of her sciences that others have deemed too 'queer' to see result in. Quinn's study has turned to the notion of thanaturgy, the art of manipulating and cheating death itself, something she believes is the next great hurdle for science and medicine. As her friends disappeared, House Dobranoc's funds had dwindled to a point that she could less easily pursue her work, and thus Quinn turned to more drastic means of securing her subjects of research. Robbing charnel houses became a seemingly normal occurrence to the widow, as did blackmailing doctors and gravediggers to supply her with fresher cadavers, her understanding of human anatomy increasing tenfold even as her morals slipped and strayed from their proper course. Thaddeus would never have abided it, but dead men can hold no scorn, not in Quinn's eyes. A series of experiments has led the young woman to believing that death is a state as reversible as illness, as malleable as her own ethics, and she eagerly seeks out ways to prove this is true with a blend of surgical aptitude, alchemy, and perhaps something altogether darker. Yet in all her efforts to speak of her theorems with others, Quinn has been dismissed as a woman mad with grief, turned away as a lunatic rather than lauded for her talents. And now, despite her discretion, it seems that her search has caught the attention of another noble recluse, though one with far greater means than herself; Baron Hanz von Grimmler. Leaving her children in the care of her sister Erika, Quinn has set out for the Grimmler estate in her best dress and with the most refinement and presentable appearance she's held in half a decade, prepared to win as many allies and collaborators as she possibly can within the confines of the party. If the Baron is a true visionary as she hopes, Quinn may very well have found a true home for her questionable studies, and desperately seeks to secure his friendship - and his funding. Quirks Despite her technical status as a noblewoman and lady, Quinn immensely prefers to be referred to as 'Doctor', and will argue the point until she's red in the face. Has a fear of darker places, and refuses to tread into shadows without a lit lantern at the ready. Is incredibly sensitive about discussion of her late husband, and will not abide people speaking ill of him or her talent respective to his. Has a tendency to hum or sing softly while 'at work'. Is utterly captivated by those with a grasp of magic that exceeds her own alchemy. Has little patience for women without skills and talent beyond being an accessory for their husband.