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Meet the Serpent Isle Irregulars

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Dossier #44: Selina

Actual Name: "My mother named me Selene, if that’s what you’re getting at."
But You Can Call Them: "I’d rather you not call me, thank you. But if you insist, it’s Selina these days."
Job: Material Girl
Job If This Was Ultima III: Illusionist
Age: "Ugh. How rude!"
Birthplace: Monitor
Disposition: Frustrated Would-be Queen of the Void
Names Written On Coffee Cups: Celennia, Selenia, Saline, Celine, Cecily, Serana, Ceramic
Weakness: Allure of Power
Companion Color: Blue
Specialities: Weaving elaborate illusions, such as turning Batlin’s otherwise worthless toadies into very nearly credible threats to the Avatar
Feminist Values: Surprisingly progressive
Dump Stat: Good life decisions
Quote: "Who took my Blink Ring?"

Selina, Moonshade's infamous illusionist, is definitely up to something and it's definitely nothing good.

Abstract: Taken from her home in Monitor at a young mage by the Magister of Moonshade. After a few years study, Selene the tattooist’s daughter became Celennia of Moonshade, a powerful and ambitious adept magician known locally as "the Night Witch". Her goals aligned with those of her peers; to somehow make it to the top of the crab bucket that is Moonshadian high society. However, her unyielding ruthlessness in pursuing those goals inspired both fear and awe among those who had the pleasure (or misfortune) of meeting her, including celebrity sage and all-around mudsill J. Wilberforce Batlin. Evidently the Guardian himself recognized something within the woman that impressed him enough to urge Batlin to take her into his employ. The precise nature of that something may never be known, but it can be assumed that it wasn’t anything nice. Destiny caught up with Selina in a similarly nasty way at the Great Shrine of Order in Spinebreaker, but as we all know, the Guardian rarely allows his failed servants an easy break…

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Dossier #149: Gwenno

Actual Name: "Gwenllian Gwalch'gaeaf."
But You Can Call Them: "Gwenno, if it pleases you."
Job: Many-Hatted Bard
Job If This Was Ultima III: Lark
Age: "Hmm. Well, not quite as old as others I could name…"
Birthplace: Earth
Disposition: Kindly, understanding and intelligent… when not possessed
Disposition When Possessed: HUNGERS FOR YOUR FLESH
Weakness: Ice
Companion Color: Yellow
Talent: Accomplished lute player; celebrity status at Sosaria's Blue Boars, old and new!
Also Carrying: Several books, fuzzy hood, lute, can of Sterno
Dump Stat: None (Gwenno was smart and balanced all her stats, see)
Quote: "Muh eh oye oh!"

Gwenno in her warm winter furs and skins, belting a tune with her favorite lute in hand.

Abstract: As one of the longest-appearing characters in Ultima, it does seem a bit unfair to lump Gwenno in with the rest of this lot. However, where the so-called Serpent Isle Irregulars are concerned, she occupies a place of honor as the Avatar's right-hand woman and one of her oldest, most trusted pals. e.g., The Ethel Mertz to the Avatar's Lucy Ricardo. She arrived on Serpent Isle several months prior to the Avatar’s journey, on a boat carrying several Fellowship members and an odd blackrock obelisk. Gwenno’s academic curiosity about the history of the Isles would lead to a most exciting first-hand study into what happens when an ancient snake-worshiping civilization goes totally off the rails. Long and violent story short, she was eventually discovered and revived by the Avatar, but her mind would remain corrupted by the Wantonness Bane until she could quaff the Water of Discipline, thus fully restoring the Gwenno we know and adore.

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Dossier #45: Wilfred

Actual Name: "Wilfred Bullard, second son of Devra and Angus Bullard."
But You Can Call Them: "Sir Wilfred."
Job: Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave Sir Wilfred!
Job If This Was Ultima III: Fighter
Age: "26."
Birthplace: Sleeping Bull Inn
Disposition: Outwardly brashly confident, inwardly a coward, sometimes outwardly a coward too, who can say
Things He Doesn’t Suffer Gladly: Crowds, Chores, Mud, Dead Weight, Mages, Bobbits
Weakness: That fixation on performative self-importance
Companion Color: Red
Party Roles: Combat trainer, firebrand, comprehensive ass-head
Trainer Rates: 30 Monetari per session (for someone "with actual potential") / 55 Monetari per session (for "scrawny little gits", mages, etc.) / NO SALE (for bobbits)
Dump Stat: Humility
Quote: "You'd best not make me regret coming with you, Avatar!"

Sir Wilfred, crossbow on his back, bravely charging into (or as far away as possible from) the fray.

Abstract: The youngest son of Angus and Devra Bullard, (former) proprietors of The Sleeping Bull Inn. This lineage makes him a direct descendant of the pirate Dougal "Silverpate" Bullard, but one would be hard-pressed to see any living traces of this legendary corsair in Sir Wilfred Bullard, the doughtiest of Monitorian knights. Or so he would be if he was not so hindered by his own lousy attitude and outrageous chauvinism, to say nothing of his petrifying phobia of all things visceral. Like many of his ilk, he bullies others to mask his own pernicious insecurities. Internally he is painfully aware of his shortcomings and even blames himself for the death of his mother and brother; that the Avatar was the one to avenge his father's murder is also something that will hound him for the rest of his life.

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Dossier #28: Petra

Actual Name: "I am not sure if I ever had one. Did I? Surely I must have…"
But You Can Call Them: "Petra! Just Petra. That's what my dear Rocco used to call me."
Job: Barmaid of Theseus
Job If This Was Ultima III: Paladin
Age: "Why, this old metal body of mine must have been created centuries ago."
Birthplace: Temple of Discipline
Disposition: Sensible and sensitive, but prone to existential angst
Memories: Vague, concerning some place called "Seriss"
Weakness: Water
Companion Color: Green
Today's Special: Baked Trout ala Squonk, with buttered roll and choice of two vegetables
Hardware Specs: Echelon IV-class Lord of Discipline OS + Chassis (in the new "Lady Style")
Dump Stat: Rustproofing
Quote: "Coffee? Tea? Juice? Free will?"

Petra the automaton, ready for battle (or tonight's dinner service) with her "tools of the trade".

Abstract: Beloved automaton barmaid of Moonshade’s famous Blue Boar Inn and a remarkable feat of technologies both ancient and modern. Petra handles it all—cooking, cleaning, painting ceilings, catching rats, bouncing drunks, extinguishing chip pan fires—all while advertising the services of Torrissio de Vitis, the city’s master of life magic and automaton restoration. In reality, this was only made possible through the shrewdness of Rocco, who recognized that Torrissio’s original intentions for the metal maid were less than savory; Rocco struck up this "advertising" deal to keep Petra safely out of the adept’s sleazy hands and the two became thick as thieves. Despite her advanced abilities to reason and express emotion, she remains plagued by the ghostly sensation of another woman, haunting the deepest intricacies of her clockwork brain…

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Dossier #34: Boydon

Actual Name: "I know not, but I am sure I was called something once. Anybody's guess."
But You Can Call Them: "Boydon; my master has a love for anagrams and a wicked sense of humor."
Job: Science Experiment
Job If This Was Ultima III: Barbarian
Age: "I suppose I’m fresh as a reborn phoenix."
Birthplace: Mad Mage Isle, Erstam's House
Disposition: Pleasantly indifferent
Shoe Size: 16A (left), 19AAA (right)
Weakness: Fire
Companion Color: Orange
Special Feature: Convenient detachable/portable head
Odor: Pungent, gamey
Dump Stat: Structural integrity
Quote: "Having a good head on your shoulders is important, but not as important as having good shoulders onto which you can sew a good head."

Boydon's got a pitchfork and he's not afraid to use it, provided he can hold himself together long enough to do so.

Abstract: "Mad Mage" Erstam’s lab assistant Boydon is composed of five different people who were all in five different states of decomposition. However, for the sake of payroll computations, old Erstam counts him as but one employee. Boydon was the hapless victim of an experiment gone awry, like so many other of Erstam’s lab assistants (to say nothing of the mage’s furniture, clothing, chickens, most of the roof and a couple load-bearing walls). But within the smoking, reeking aftermath, Boydon’s head was discovered in "fair enough" condition, having rolled beneath the mage’s writing desk during the explosive revue. The ever-ambitious Erstam decided to squeeze as much lemonade as he could from this lemon of a OSHA violation and preserved Boydon's head for his ultimate experiment, which would eventually be completed by the Avatar during her adventures across the Isle.

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Dossier #168: Stefano

Actual Name: "What do you mean, Actual Name…?"
But You Can Call Them: "Stefano Pavone! And take care not to wear it out!"
Job: Politic Pilferer
Job If This Was Ultima III: Thief
Age: "Well, if nobody else is sharing theirs…"
Birthplace: Moonshade
Disposition: Deceptively clever, confident and slick
In his Seminarium Yearbook, He was Voted "Most Likely To…": "…end up in the Magelord’s personal prison"
Weakness: All the buggedy beasties (but especially spiders)
Companion Color: Purple
Services Provided: Obtaining the unobtainable, gossip gleaning, snooping and spying, sowing discord, blackmailing, leg-breaking (purely metaphorical), leg-breaking (slightly less metaphorical), notary public
Proudest Professional Moment: Nicking Ensorcio's lucky pants as proof of his nefarious intentions with the Magelord’s beloved daughter
Dump Stat: Financial acumen
Quote: "I’m only doing this because we’re friends, Avatar."

Stefano always at least LOOKS dashing, so long as you aren't expecting anything resembling martial competence.

Abstract: Moonshade’s premier obtainer of rarities, though it might be more fair to say he’s the city’s only obtainer of rarities, or at least the only bandit around with the nerve to advertise himself as such, or at least the only bandit around with the nerve to advertise himself at all. When he was still a boy, Stefano gained a keen awareness of what greases the city’s wheels: Magic and Money, two things he lacked in spades despite having a rich and powerful (if very old) wizard for a father. Stefano inherited hardly anything from his parents, but one can at least always make more money; he soon worked out how to make his twin talents for theft and subterfuge work for him via the commissioned acquisition of objects, information, and stockings other services for any adept who can meet his price. His lifestyle became as wildly hedonistic as it became a daily gamble with fate. Alas, the latter caught up with him soon enough when a blackmail attempt gone wrong landed him square in the center of the Magelord’s ire…

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Dossier #152: Sethys

Actual Name: "Sethys; surname Esshalshamesh. The name Sethys means 'Star of the Serpent', and—"
But You Can Call Them: "Whenever you like, I s'ppose. No? Oh, oh, I see. Just Sethys then, if that's—"
Job: Ancient Acolyte
Job If This Was Ultima III: Cleric
Age: "You mean before the war, or…? No? Oh, now? You mean now? As in today—"
Birthplace: Free City of Thiriastith (now Furnace)
Disposition: Still fairly neurotic after 8700 years of remand in a Time Prism
Dreads: Oh god, you name it
Weakness: Dread
Companion Color: White
Specializes In: Interpreting Ophidian text, practicing lost Ophidian magic, crafting forgotten Ophidian tinctures, identifying Ophidian artifacts and ruins, failing to explain why the Ophidians all went off their collective bonce
Morning Routine: Wake (~5 AM); morning toilette; meditation and physical posturing (i.e., Yoga); screaming into the Void; breakfast; then maybe more screaming into the Void, depending on how the rest of that day’s schedule is looking
Dump Stat: Luck
Quote: "Cut the roots and bury the heads…♪"

The ever-solicitous Sethys has armed himself with... what else? The Hammer of Dedication!

Abstract: An Ophidian who lived centuries ago and survived cultural extinction by virtue of his own supernatural imprisonment. In his time, Sethys Esshalshamesh served the Temple of Harmony as an apothecary and scholar. He often studied at the Office of the Hierophant in his hometown of Thiriastith; as such, he had the misfortune of being present for the assassination of the last Great Hierophant, Ssithnos. In a much later stroke of arguably worse luck, he uncovered some evidence linking the crime to the Hierophant of Order and the so-called Dark Monks, a mysterious cult proliferating about the Isles at the time. But Sethys would not reach the end of his ill-starred tether until he got detained by soldiers of Ethicality during their raid on the Temple of Emotion. From there, his captors shipped him to Seriss, and then things started to get really weird…

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Dossier #26: Mortegro

Actual Name: "I was born Morton Shumway, formerly of Fawn. But please, keep it between friends..."
But You Can Call Them: "Mortegro, the Necromage of Moonshade."
Job: Necromancing Nabob
Job If This Was Ultima III: Wizard
Age: "Quite old, yes yes, quite quite old…"
Birthplace: Fawn
Disposition: Flighty but diplomatically so
Intolerances: Petty politicking, presumptuous prattling, preposterous postulating
Weakness: Lightning
Companion Color: Black
Other Community Services: Investigating unusual deaths, issuing Death Magic licenses, holding annual "rap sessions" with the local novices about just saying "no" to stoneheart
Hobbies: Playing the harpsichord, collecting skulls, lurking, touring graveyards, knitting
Dump Stat: Constitution
Quote: "A necromancer is just a healer who doesn’t know when to quit."

Mortegro, Necromage of Moonshade, has shown up appropriately late with a (famous name brand coffee).

Abstract: A transplant from the fisherman's haven of Fawn, Mortegro has proudly served as the Necromage of Moonshade for many decades now—a city coroner, funeral director, and spiritual medium all rolled into one. Naturally he is also an adept, one who has mastered his craft at the post-collegiate level. He may count himself among the city’s privileged elite, but he prefers to keep to his own business, aware that others may find it offputting. Likewise, his fellow adepts consider him but a minor stump in their vile morass of politics, cliques and trysts. At the time of the Avatar’s arrival, he was assisting elder adept Gustacio with his own studies of the strange weather currently plaguing the isles. Following the death of adept Rotoluncia, the Magelord personally asked Mortegro to assume her seat on the Council of Mages, which he assumed well enough until his own disappearance during a teleportation storm. Gustacio was most ruffled to discover an altar of indeterminate origin where once stood the Necromage of Moonshade…

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Dossier #81: Buck Buck

Actual Name: "Buck buck buck… buh-GAWK!"
But You Can Call Them: "Buck buck."
Job: Chicken
Job If This Was Ultima III: Also Chicken
Age: "Buck?"
Birthplace: Somewhere beneath a hen in the Sleeping Bull’s chicken coop
Disposition: Usually ornery, unusually broody, selectively cuddly
Shoe Size: Probably average for a rooster
Weakness: Eleven secret herbs and spices
Special Feature: Can cast spells (many illegal) up to the Ninth Circle for some unplumbed reason
Breed: Buff Orpington
Dump Stat: Smell
Quote: "Buck buck… Buh-GAWK buck buck!" (Possible translation: "In Jux Por Ylem!")

Buck Buck, a large buff Orpington rooster who fancies himself the cock of the walk wherever he goes.

Abstract: Buck Buck is a large copper-colored rooster who lives with the other chickens on the grounds of the Sleeping Bull Inn and is completely ordinary in every single way to which any given example of poultry could possibly aspire.

Everybody got that? Moving on.

As an aside, and totally apropos of nothing, here is some interesting backstory about an entirely unrelated figure, a powerful mage who languishes in his inglorious exile, known in his native Moonshade by the name of— [REEL MISSING ... the editor regrets the inconvenience]

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