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Mr. Manel Clubs - Mole-man Blacksmith. Nearsighted and calls everyone Richy no matter what. Constantly smells like overboiled cabbage due to some sort of fur fungus he doesn’t admit that he has. Any decorative accents he makes look like triangles, which he claims look exactly like what you asked for. He makes useful things like pots, pans, nails and farm tools. “Yurp. No prollem der, Richy. Illy be bout tree ders.”

Ms. Folly Greyfeathers - Pigeon Secretary for Guardhouse. Stares out of the window and reports needless things to the guards all the time. Unashamed of cowardice. She will chatter happily along with anyone who happens to be jailed, though usually her advice is useless, after-the-fact things. “And then, when he thought no one was looking, he picked his nose and wiped it on a tree!”

Lois/Luis - Two-feet long Centipede Cobbler. Only appears when it’s raining. Works out of the Leather shop. Accepts being addressed by either gender pronouns and seems confused by the concept when asked which it is. He's only good at making shoes. “Yiz. I kin do. Iz good. Three dezz.”

Mr. Simba Amin - Street-sweeper/basic carpenter who is a Lion. He’d like to be a tamer one day. He’s a bit simple, and tends to simply talk about the weather or what he swept up that day rather than have any strenuous conversation. He’s good for passing along a message, though, and he goes home at nightfall. Terribly shy in a toe-prodding, blushing sort of way, he's rarely seen, but can usually manage a barrel or a tool-handle if asked. “The weather was real nice today!”

Mr. John Crock - Beetle potter who lives under the outhouse. Is almost never seen, but he’ll talk to you while you poo and pots with price tags on appear around the outhouse every so often. ”Oooh, that was a good one there! Good one! Hey. Hey. Hey. Buy a pot. I just got it made. Personalized! Crock pots are the best pots!”

Mr. Steve Breathstealer is the stevedore that sees people onto and off of the ship, interacting with the Trade Minister and handling papers in their absence. He tells Bad-Joke-Eel jokes.“Two guys walk into a bar. The third one ducks!”

Mr. Bartanyan Wayne, the Fruit Bat, who works as a secretary for any who need it (like the Trade Minister), reading and writing letters for those who need it as well. Hangs above the desk over Ms. Greyfeathers at the guardhouse. Strictly nocturnal. Constantly dribbles ink from trying to write upside down. “I am not the scribe you deserve, but I’m the one that’s here right now.”

Fallenblades from the “Cult of the Colours” aka “Cult of Fredrick”. While these demons retain their nine-foot tall, three feet wide imposing stature, wings, fangs, claws, occasional funny hats, and weapons... This particular group is also very fond of painting themselves pastel colours and gluing flowers to their bodies. Every bit as vicious and uncaring about being-kind comfort as before, and still quite capable of ripping a man’s leg off and using it as both a snack and a club, they prefer to make sandwich boards and use their patrols to talk about the Overlords’ son, Fredrick, as if he is the next Messiah. “He is born! Witness the pastel freedoms of his birth! His touch cures embolisms! His songs hold the birds aloft!”

Davian Songsteel, the owner of the Three Star Tavern and Inn, is one of those people who is good at a job he doesn't like very much. Davian owns two milk goats, Stella and Spacey and a milk cow (who gives green milk. He serves what's on the Menuand nothing else. “What, you want steak? And I want a day off. Shit in one hand, wish in another. And wipe your damn feet.”

Miss Eugenia Needle is an arthritic little old tabby cat lady who, because of what she is, has always been a little old cat lady but can still dream of being young and attractive. She loves her gossip (the more lewd the better!) and is content to have company, being one of the NPCs that actually likes her job. She helps run the Dancing Needle. She goes home at nightfall. “Oooooh dearie. You should see what that young lady wore last night! She’s out catching a husband or a good dilly, she is.”

Doctor Dee Timber is a sharp tongued, no-nonsense surgeon who hasn't lost a patient yet. It could be accused that people survive her treatments soley because they don't want her attitude to be the last they encounter. With no sense of humor and no bedside manner, she gets the job done and gets patients back out the door because she can't stand the sight of them. However, if someone else wants to handle the job for her, she'll be glad to thrust the healer's apron at them and tell them to get on with it, if they think they are so smart,but she never leaves. “Good grief, it’s a cut, not an amputation. Quit whining.”

Miss Jambiliah is the General Store proprietor. A sassy, heavily gullah accented tiger who really, really, really hates her job and drops hints about her only being here "until it's paid off". She smokes in the shop, eats in the shop, and has broken her own desk bell so that she can ignore people as much as possible. She does, however, rent space for other folks to sell their wares from. “Wha - choo be tinkin Jambiliah keep her tumb onda scale? Geeonouttaheah!”

Mr. Sweeney Armstrong is the grumpy rabbit who owns the bakery. Openly despising his job, but extremely protective of his equipment, he always seems close at hand. In fact, folks who lease it often find him remaining in the bakery after leasing, constantly criticizing their techniques or their handling of the oven, which he repeatedly tries to show them how to clean. “Try to get the back corner back there. You might have to crawl in. I’ll hold the door open.”

Mr. Rupert Samarillo is the Familiar Hand proprietor, and a skilled liar. Clearly not the same as the charlatan next door, you can hear that this man’s Liverpool accent shows some masculine refinement! Even though his stock just kindof APPEARS in the cages, he is always willing to invent the wildest tales of capturing and taming them to be perfect for whatever the client happens to need. The amount of training the animal has is always a lie as well. Caveat Emptor, with that guy. Gone all night. “Ol’ chap, I’d never steer you wrong! See here the marvelous Nearly Sabertooth Rabbit, but mind its vicious bite!”

Mr. Samarillo Rupert is the Green Haze proprietor, and totally not the same as that charlatan next door, no no, can you not tell that THIS one has an Indian accent? Ready with a number of obviously horrible holistic advice to do with the culinary herbs that he sells to the other businesses and occasional homes, Mr. Rupert (“Ohhh, just call me Samarillo!”) is constantly speaking about his trips to India while he mixes up some shisha for the hookah he rents use of to the townsfolk. Gone all day. “And when back home, I buy for you horn of rhino. Beautiful flower. Cures all ills!”

Mr. Loken a rather tired looking and middle aged Mouse Furre watches the children with a quiet patience, seeing to educating the little ones and caring for their needs. Those who sense magic would probably soon realize he is not everything he seems, the feel of the male very similar to the Fallenblades. It’s probably best to never cross him, despite the way it seems he’s much more likely to offer you a cookie and a mild rebuke than anything frightening. “Children, no fighting. Siis, what do you say? There’s a good boy. Now please bring the broom over, thank you. You two be in by curfew.”

Klaathak the Imp is a cigar smoking fat little demon occasionally found in the village as a messenger from the Overlord’s Manor. Needlessly rude, he is one of the archmage's messengers. “Fuck off, fart-face, I don’t wanna listen to your skanky self and I don’t wanna be here neever.”

The Aching family and Granny Feegle are a pole-cat group that live in a house on the farmland of the Loa-Bondsmiller. Extremely happy to be working on the farm, since not only do they not have to pay rent, but they get paid in food and gold, they like to spend what money they get in other shops. The whole family only gets a couple of gold a month, though, so they sometimes bicker in their yard about it.

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