The Company of the Crooked Coin are another party intended to start as relative novices. Not quite as young as the Wildlings, but still new to the adventuring game. As it often does in such tales, it starts with a tavern and a bet…
Marcus “Magpie” Kyrkos
Race: Human/Greek
Class: Cleric-Luck/Mischief
“Tim Hildebrandt fantasy painting;swarthy greek man,age 26,rogue man,raised eyebrow,mischievous smirk,round face,stubble,short black hair,small black cape,dark leather armor“
Marcus is a born schemer. He always has an angle. Its just how he thinks – always sizing up people, situations, and opportunities. He is a devout follower of Lady Luck, but believes Luck is for those who seek her out – not for those who wait for her to come to them. He is certainly not above throwing a wrench in the established order if he thinks it needs upending, but he is more inclined to ride the chaos than cause it. He seeks out uncertain, chaotic, unstable situations and then pokes a little here, tweaks a little there, until things fall out to his liking. And he is at his best when everything is going haywire, best laid plans lie in ruins, and he is just surfing the storm.
So naturally, upon striking out on his own, the life of an adventurer called to him. The problem? Solo adventurers don’t live very long, and none of his childhood friends were willing to strike out on such a risk endeavor – preferring to stick to local rackets.
So he decided to play the odds. Step one, find an opportunity – a nearby town desperate for help with a bandit problem. Wealthy enough to pay well in “beginning adventurer” terms, but not wealthy enough to attract serious attention from bigger fish. Step two, assemble a crew. He spent a week touring taverns in the area -observing, watching, and learning. Picking out prospects and discretely checking them out. Then he made his move. He made his pitch, but it wasn’t quite convincing. He was a fresh adventurer himself. He didn’t have many cards in his deck. So for those who were willing, he made a wager. Flip a coin. His coin. And they were free to flip it themselves. As well as choose heads vs tails. One side – they would come with him for one mission, and then decide if it was worth sticking around. The other – he would give them 5 gp, up front, for nothing. A wager intended only to pull in those already on the fence – and those who, like him, couldn’t resist a good wager.
That first mission went surprisingly well – despite it turning out that the “bandits” were, in fact, in league with the mayor in a political extortion scheme. And they had been intended to be patsies set up to die in an ambush to prove the severity of the problem. But Marcus rode the tide, and they came out on top. With a bonus for exposing the mayor’s shenanigans.
In time they learned that Marcus’ coin was anything but normal – whatever magic tests said about it. He often used it when he wasn’t sure which path to follow. But it had its own mind about things. Sometimes giving Marcus the answer he wanted, sometimes giving Marcus the opposite, and with a disturbing tendency to either land on its side or simply float spinning in the air when it didn’t want to give an answer at all.
Bjorn “the Bold” “the Bull-Headed” Ivarsson
Race: Human/Nordic
Class: Barbarian/Berserker
“Tim Hildebrandt fantasy painting;norse warrior man;large,muscular,heavyset,shaved blonde viking ponytail,chain vest,leather,wide grin“
Bjorn is a simple man with simple pleasures. Wine, Women, Song, Busting Heads. These are a few of his favorite things. But for him “simple” doesn’t mean “stupid”. It simply means “direct and to the point”. He can regale you for days on the finer points of Heroes and Histories. He can sing surprisingly well when not in a drunken stupor. In fact, he is well known for his tendency to break into rousing song mid-battle. And battle, he *loves* battle. He never feels more alive than when death is knocking at the door.
Marcus pegged Bjorn as a candidate almost immediately. Simple motivations, big, bold, and utterly fearless. And with a “life is to be lived” attitude that lent itself easily to his own inclinations. Marcus suspected that Bjorn would have come along regardless of what the coin said – but he played along anyway because, why not?
Tiana Wind-Racer
Race: Elf/Sylvan
Class: Monk/Survival
“Tim Hildebrandt fantasy painting;sioux elf woman,copper skin,confident smirk,sassy,athletic,warpaint,brown dreadlocks tied back;tribal mini-vest;tribal mini-skirt”
Tiana is a sylvan elf whose tastes and talents led her far from her native woods. She is a practioner of old sylvan elf arts of total self-reliance, born from the days when they were still slaves to the high elves. She can make anything a weapon, because she is a weapon. She doesn’t rely on magic – divine or arcane. She taps into her own inner strength to accomplish things that her thin elven frame should not be capable of accomplishing. But she also has a deep wanderlust. She wants to see the world. Experience the world. Follow the wind, and test herself against all that it brings.
Tiana was Marcus’ toughest sell. He could immediately tell that she would be a unique asset. And watching her manhandle three muggers twice her size who considered her an easy mark just clinched it. But she held his gaze through the entire pitch, and appeared completely unimpressed. She laughed at the coin suggestion, and appeared ready to walk away. So he phrased it differently. “How about this bet? I’ll toss the coin in the air, straight up, on your count. If you can catch it – you win.” She looked at him. She looked at the coin carefully. Felt its weight. Tossed and caught it a few times. Then replied, “If you have money to lose so easily, who am I to deny you?” But she missed. She could have sworn the coin anticipated her reactions – intentionally changing speeds to avoid her hand. But she had agreed to the terms. And a bet was a bet. “That’s a Crooked Coin you keep.” she commented, dryly. And the name stuck.
Shea “Sparks” Quinn
Race: Human/Irish
Class: Artificer/Artillerist
“Tim Hildebrandt fantasy painting;irish woman,age 24,wide face,wry grin,scruffy,tinker,thin,short red hair,freckles,leather headband,leather armor vest,maroon shirt“
Shea has an intuitive understanding of “how things work” beyond many mages far above her years. She has almost no intrinsic magical abilities of her own. No sorcerous talent whatsoever. She can’t sing a lick. She’s about as pious as a dictionary. But give her access to proper materials and she can bootstrap just about anything from spare ingredients. She has a knack for wands and scrolls, and a talent for blending magic and practical physics. With a particular penchant for explosive effects. And don’t let the quiet demeanor fool you. If she *really* has it in for you, you’ll know it. And the neighbors will feel it.
Marcus wasn’t sure about Shea. She didn’t look quite like what he was expecting. But when he consulted his coin it came up heads. Repeatedly. Insistently. So he gave her the pitch. And she raised an eyebrow. “A single simple coin flip? That doesn’t sound very interesting.” So he upped the ante. “How about this? You flip the coin, 10 times, and I only win if they are *all* heads.” This instantly raised her suspicions, but he let her examine the coin with an array of odd wands and talismans, and she could find nothing special about it. She experimentally tossed it a few times, and all seemed normal. So she agreed, “Its your money”. At which point every toss turned heads. Until *exactly* 10 tosses, after which it became random once again. “I don’t know how you managed that, but if you keep showing me that trick until I figure it out, I’m in!” And so she was sold.
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