Topic: WestEnd's NPC's and Local Color

Sid

Date: 2007-09-13 08:52 EST
PLEASE NOTE: While we are more than happy to "lend" our "local color" creations for use in others' storytelling to help enhance and in the spirit of collaborative, interactive role-playing, we expect respect in their use. They are individual player creations - they belong to the player that created them. Please do not kill, maim, or destroy these creations.

Also, please remember that the WestEnd is a Member-Created area; complete and total annihilation of the area effects those who have creations in this Rhy'Din neighborhood. Ask first. One might be surprised at the answer. Otherwise be aware any destruction called on the WestEnd without all the WestEnd Players' Consent will be ignored.

Everyone is welcome to add to NPC's and Local Color.

You are invited to add your own creations. Be it locations or NPC's we offer the same safety to your creations as we do to ours. What you create belongs to you and no one has the right to destroy, remove, or otherwise tamper with your creations except you or those whom you give your permission to. We lay no claim on anything we did not create. Everything you create still belongs to you. The goal behind the WestEnd has and always will be sharing our fun with others. We want you to feel welcome and included on every level.

All we ask is that everyone play respectfully with one another and to the shared ambience of the setting that Sid's Player, Julie, created.

NPC, Local Color, Building and Sharing a World...

In the interest of helping to build the community of which we are all a part I wish to share some of my NPCs and Local Color and my thoughts about them, and offer them up for use as part of this Shared World of Rhy"Din. This first posting will more than likely be added to at future points with other posts in this thread. I enthusiastically invite all of you to share your own Local Color creations here, too. Share with us! I would love to see them.

I placed NPC in the title of this in order to make clarification. Normally, when I talk on this I just use the term "Local Color." We all do it and use it. Either when writing our stories or playing them out in the rooms. Certain "quirks" of the Inn are commonly referred to playables by many.

As an example, though I know some do not like to use him (but most know of him), Guido. However, there are other examples; the chalkboard behind the bar, the dragon's head over the hearth, Sid's own SOPCoD. These are things that help the setting to live and breathe. It is more than just setting, though most of the above examples were parts of a setting.

When we write our stories we add local color in with the use of NPCs (non-played/player characters) and interesting tidbits about the scene in which our stories are taking place.

Local Color and NPCS:

In my original OOC opening posting in this board I invited all to avail themselves of the local color. I wish to offer up now a more thorough list of items, quirks, people, and places up for public use.

WestEnd " WestEnd is a rundown and dilapidated district west of the Red Dragon Inn. It is on the cusp between Old Town and Stars End Sector. The neighborhood is bordered on its west by a warehouse district, with docks and the water beyond that. It isn't an easy place to live and has become a haven for the disenfranchised due to certain quirks of this particular area of Rhy"Din.

Some of WestEnd's peculiar quirks already in play and up for use include: WestEnd seems to be a 'dead zone," of sorts. When one is inside its boundaries one is effectively "off the radar." To 'see" into WestEnd seems to be impossible by any means; magics, scrying, tech, second sight, telepathically, otherworldly talents. Once inside, it is near impossible for any to locate you who are also not inside the confines of WestEnd.

This 'dead zone" also has consequences inside the boundaries of WestEnd, or maybe it is just because WestEnd is between the manna rich Old Town and the high tech splendors of Stars End Sector. For whatever reason, both magic and tech work often twisted and unexpected ways inside WestEnd. Most of the lights, though there are not many working ones on the maze-like streets of this tumble down neighborhood, are spell lamps. If it seems to work like something in the modern world, one can bet the internal mechanism of whatever it is will be a marriage of tech and magic in order to function in WestEnd.

Reynaldo's Bruised Fruit and Produce ('dented and bent, never abused") " Reynaldo's is a building to the right of center in WestEnd; a two story, corrugated tin roof and awning deal inhabited on the upper floor by a family of six. Reynaldo Reynard, the foxy, distinguished older patron of the clan, works with his four tricksey sons " all in the mid to upper twenties in appearance - haggling down at the docks in early morning hours for crates of slightly dented and bent fruits and vegetables.

Reynaldo, and his four sons are over seen and handled by his youngest child, a daughter named Esme who also runs the produce stand in WestEnd and the satellite booth the family keeps in the Marketplace. Esme is a played character, but she would be a known fixture in WestEnd and the Marketplace up until just recently when she has been absent from both places much to her family's increasing worry. Reynaldo and the boys can't quite seem to function without Esme and their appearances, attitudes, home and business have suffered.

Reynaldo and the boys are Non-Player Characters. All I ask is that you do not kill them if you use them in your tellings.

Makos " WestEnd has a good number of gangs ratting about its maze-like streets and dark alleys, it is not only a haven for the disenfranchised and those with a need to stay hidden, but also those that would prey off such beings.

The Makos are a group NPC. Kill, maim, destroy as many as you wish. ::Grins.:: More will show up. These are what I like to call free-for-all Doritos. "Crunch all you want, we'll make more."

The Makos are the front-runners for a shadowy unknown figure. Mid-level Adepts of varying species, they wear grey dragon hide attire. Their favorite pastimes are head bashing, extortion, murder, torture, and a 'sport' they call Rabbit and Hounds where the Makos pick a target and run it down like a pack of hunting dogs until the target is caught and killed in a frenzy.

Meandering Rave " Throughout WestEnd, into the warehouse district and out onto the buildings along the docks the Meandering Rave wanders. One night in one spot, the next in another; its patrons spilling out from the insides of whatever venue has been chosen for the eve. The music plays from the time of sun's setting to its rising. Sunglasses are a necessity for those remaining until the last chill notes have sounded.

Our Lady of Perpetual Misery (Perp Miz) and its Bell Tower " On the eastern border of the WestEnd and Old Town is a Bell Tower connected to a large ramshackle building of worship. The Bell Tower can be heard across the entirety of WestEnd and rings on the hour and half hour, but it is not known for keeping the correct time and has been known to chime up to fourteen o"clock on a whim.

The denomination of Our Lady of Perpetual Misery, more commonly known as Perp Miz, is not very clear. There is Bingo every Thursday evening and Sid often calls the games for a few hours. Many of the elderly from all parts of Rhy"Din who cannot live alone anymore have come to Perp Miz. Sid has been known to take groups of the seniors on outings, often to the HoJo's on Route 80 where they have nightly shows featuring male strippers.

A word on Sid and Scottie's Brownstone " The direct geographical center of WestEnd is the location of Sid and Scottie's Brownstone. However, it is not easily seen. Unless a being has been specifically invited by Scottie or Sid, or the couple have some reason for making a mental note that someone is allowed, when trying to locate the Brownstone it will seem to slide from the corner of one's vision. Looking directly at the space where it is supposed to be there will appear to be a vacant lot. If one is standing there when someone exits the front doors at the top of the stoop they will seem to be standing in mid air.

Delivery personnel who frequent the district can locate the Brownstone. Many of the permanent residents can also easily see the 'stone. It is not impossible to locate it when inside WestEnd, it's just a bit tricky if one isn't familiar with the oddity of it and can be quite disconcerting to attempt a knock on that front door when one cannot see the steps or even the building to which they lead.

When seen, though much around it is in disrepair, the Brownstone is pristine in its renovation. Fine craftsmanship of non-magical construction compliments of the master dwarf craftsman Dalbelborak and his crew.

About the SOPCoD " SOPCoD stands for Sawed Off Pool Cue o' Doom and it is Sid's preferred object of choice when dealing with patron control at her shifts in the Red Dragon Inn. There are now two SOPCoD, one is the thickened end just over a forearm's length of a standard twenty-one weight pool stick, its middle hollowed out and filled with a core of mithril enhanced lead, and the other is its twin in appearance except that it is made of solid titanium and was a gift to Sid from Tara. "Sid's SOPCoD' and a Yule sentiment from Tara are engraved on the titanium cranium crusher.

Sid leaves them both behind the bar and just under its wooden counter top within easy reach. Feel free to use them. I only ask that you do no permanent damage to either. Stealing is all right if you let me know it has been done, either IC or OOC (I can't play off of it if I don't know it has happened), and as long as the SOPCoD can eventually be reacquired.

You are Invited to Share!

These are just a few bits of Local Color, more may come at future points and I will post them here. What, if any, bits of your own Local Color do you wish to share" Come, tell us! Thoughts on Local Color, collective NPC, Shared Worlds? I'd love to hear it! Tell us!

Icer1978

Date: 2007-09-13 12:43 EST
Icer's broken old couch- In the corner of the Inn lays a couch thats seen better days, the springs all but non existant anymore leaving the couch with a drooping appearance. Beneath the cushions though lay part of the dragon's hoard, though keeping the couch warded, none would see unless the dragoness purposely took them over.

Icer and Aurthur's Lair/Orphannage- Off in what little wooded area is left lay a quiet Glen where a waterfall fills a peaceful lake, many types of wildflowers grow about the wooded area that remains surrounded by trees, and in a cavern behind the falls houses the dragons lair. The entrance alway warded against intruders, but friends are welcome anytime. Behind the waterfall theres a rocky path that leads up to the entrance.

Sid

Date: 2007-09-14 05:40 EST
Here are a few more that are up for public use. Again, all I ask is respect in use when and if you utilize them in your tellings. Have fun!

Morrison's Metalworks " Morrison's is located somewhere between WestEnd and the Stars End Bar and Grille in Stars End Sector, a favorite haunt of Sid's. A roll-up bay door faces one of the alleys that run throughout Stars End and this is the entrance to Jim's place, machinist shop and beer joint combined.

There is a jukebox, and patrons often spill outside onto the pavement, dancing, fighting, or just drinking and talking. The entire inside of the joint is worked metal. From the plate of the floor to the bar, the tall tables and stools, every piece is a part of the other, all immovable. They aren't just bolted to the floor, they are a part of it. With a crowd like the Metalworks gets it is not only cost efficient, it can also be life-saving!

The noise inside can be madness inducing, reverberating off the beer-soaked, bloodstained walls and all that metal. At Jim's place the clientele are mainly the survivors of a thousand streets.

Jim " Jim is the owner of Morrison's Metalworks. A machinist and sometime musician, no one is sure if Morrison is his last name or if he just left it up when he acquired the shop and joint. He is an older gent around fifty with a mischievous, youthful glint in his eyes. Wavy, shoulder length brown hair, he still cuts a trim figure in his jeans and leather vest and can be quite the ladies" man. Those that have actually heard him sing say his voice has the ability to send them strange places in their mind.

Nick " Nick, last name unknown, is a bear of a man. Some have commented he reminds them an awful lot of the Red Dragon's bouncer, Guido. Nick works the door at the Metalworks, always on guard he keeps a watchful eye on the patrons and their myriad vehicles parked along the alleyway. He is also Jim's all-around handyman and works as part of the team in the machine shop.

Rack " Rack is the usual tender found behind the metal bar at Morrison's. Like Jim and Nick he is a part of the machine shop team and is in his late forties or early fifties. With Rack it is a bit harder to tell his age, cybernetic augmentations make that difficult to pinpoint. His right arm from shoulder to fingertips is made of metal, and his right eye is also a cybernetic implant capable of swiveling independently from his left. A good quality to have as a tender of Morrison's, he can keep his eye on anything around. Nothing gets past Rack!

Flip " Flip is a mousy little fellow, all string bean tall and thin. Somewhere between puberty and his early twenties he's more like a mascot then the barback or gopher that Jim and the guys employ him as. Flip is awkward and enthusiastic, the guys keep a close watch on him as he has mostly become their collective surrogate son.

The Psychic Deli ("We know what you want before you do!") " The commune of buildings that houses The Psychic Deli - located in WestEnd north of Perp Miz - its owners, Saul and Vera RainbowMoonSong, the staff, and all extended families, is a psychedelic nightmare of fluorescent, eye-assaulting colors inside and out. Their slogan is "We know what you want before you do!? and it proves often to be true, the workers running here and there about WestEnd with steaming buckets of delectable delights for unsuspecting clients. When one pops up at your door you can bet they have exactly what you've been craving even if you didn't know it before that moment! Tip well!

Last Knight

Date: 2008-02-27 14:52 EST
Java Hell

A coffeehouse, deliberately designed to be homey and comfortable. Secondhand tables, chairs and couches are scattered all over, and the smell of fresh-roasted coffee is almost overpowering. The logo is an obvious riff on Starbucks, red instead of green, with a devil rather than a mermaid. Java Hell specializes in no-frills coffee, espresso, and cappuccino, with little regard for "frou frou" sugary drinks, "frappuccinos", or other yuppie drinks one might find in more mainstream coffees. Similarly, they don't generally go for terms like 'barista', or anything else the rather earthy staff might find pretentious.

The staff are: Alexis Montague, the owner, is a slim, pretty black woman in her early thirties. Close cropped dark hair, high cheekbones in a delicate face, almost model pretty, but she doesn't bother with makeup or anything more than basic grooming. She usually wears casual clothing, often with a cream colored apron with the store logo over that. She's polite to the customers, friendly to the people she sees regularly, and has a sharp wit, though rarely is it used maliciously. She's apt to tease the people she likes best, but she usually makes up for it with free drinks.

Jeanne, the 'barista', a former prostitute. She's about sixteen, pale skin and hair, and a heroin addict's gaunt features that are slowly fleshing out as she begins to eat and sleep regularly. She's been clean for about six months now. She's generally very shy and quiet around strangers, and she's terrified of doing something that might make Alexis fire her - this can make her seem standoffish and cold to people who don't know her well. To those that do, she's warm and bright, above average intelligence, with a foul mouth and a gutter sense of humor. She doesn't talk about her former life on the streets, and fortunately, it hasn't come back to haunt her....yet, of course.

Colby, busboy and dishwasher, general dogsbody, former street urchin. Paladin vouched for Colby to Alexis, and she's never had any cause to regret hiring the boy. Also quiet and polite, he watches people with fine tuned, paranoid eyes - sidelong, so as to avoid offending, but oh so cautious. A life on the streets will do that to you. He tries to avoid conversations with customers, while also trying to avoid being rude.

Necromesh

Date: 2009-01-16 15:33 EST
This is a particular setting I've been working on for a while to bring up for public use, and with the presence of a bunch of shades that Skid happened to be responsible for the uh, transplantation of?

If anyone would like to use it in a story or in play, feel free to make use of the buildings, shops, and NPCs as you need. Just please, don't kill them or destroy the integrity of their funtastic little society. Thanks!

The Shadey Lanes A particularly oddity in its own right, "The Shadey Lanes" have been dubbed with their odd spelling and strange title (The sun is almost always shining down on the buildings and streets during the day, kept at bay only by makeshift awnings and the dense clutter of alleyways) by a number of its own squatter residents as well as the packs of wild children and gangs that frequent the place.

Origin of Originally, it had been nothing more than an average set of apartment blocks, but almost overnight the place became a haven for what appeared to be ghosts. Not everyone could see them, but quickly, the more psychically inclined or magically natured inhabitants became aware of a presence that simply, hadn't been there before. There's rarely been any issue taken up with the intangible creatures since their initial appearance, but the way their blood-red, permanent jack-o-lantern grins split their otherwise perfectly Human -if grey-skinned and ancient clothed- faces into fear-inspiring creatures simply turned a lot of people off to the place over time. Since then, newer, hardier, and crazier residents have taken an affectionate interest in the place, and gangs have made outposts of certain buildings. Ground levels of the buildings have been filled with occult bookshops and mystics advertising their wares, creating a sort of Mall where the aptly named "Shades" rarely go.

Notable NPCs

Mister Chensy A massive man by any standards, many think his blood runs thick with more than just Human ancestry, Mister Chensy stands at just over eight feet tall, and almost half that wide across the shoulders. He's completely stable as a person, but suffers from split personalities. One is the Mister Chensy most are used to seeing, the kindly, genteel Boss with a slight southern draw that manages the entire Mall, keeping people from going at each others throats with a smile and a kind word, though he hasn't been above putting a punk or two in their proper place, and the surrogate father of the Lanes' own Knight, Commander Fence. But when the lights go out and the Shadey Lanes go dark, he loses his sense of self, dresses in white leathers, carries a silver-plated sledge hammer, and rides on his massive, custom-built Triumph motorcycle through the streets. He calls himself the HoG, and when asked by what he deemed to be a law-abiding citizen, explained that it means the Hammer of God. The HoG tends to attack anyone carrying a weapon, though he hasn't to this date used the hammer strapped to his back, or killed a single person. He merely relieves them of their weapon, and leaves them -usually unconscious- upon the ground. Nobody knows what the HoG does with the weapons, and Mister Chensy hasn't had any recollection of the HoG's exploits to this day.

Grammy Goodvibes The oldest citizen of the Lanes by far, Grammy Goodvibes runs the only music store in the entire area; Goodvibes Music. Frequented by the young and old alike, her records, CDs, cassettes, players and phonographs, and even a number of old and new jukeboxes sell or get bartered for quick. Where she comes across all this is a mystery, as she never seems to leave her shop, save to pay daily visits to The Wailing Teacup around one in the afternoon. Granny's one of the most out of place inhabitants of the Lanes, for nothing beyond the fact that she seems completely normal. She's extremely friendly, talking to people as if they were her grandchildren regardless of whether they're young or old, innocent bystanders or monstrous gang members, men or women. She even leaves a fresh plate of cookies on the counter next to the old register for people to snack on while they browse.

Percival Skivington III Perce is a man of many words, and he speaks them all in a delightfully unintelligible British accent. He owns and manages the only tea-only pub in Rhy'din, The Wailing Teacup. He stands at a height of six and a half feet, and is built something like a telephone pole. Always wearing tattered and shredded punk clothing, his mohawked head -in a different color every week- turns towards those entering his life and love with a hawkish glare and a jolly greeting all at once. He's a very friendly sort, though he tends to start more fights in his pub than any patron ever has. Seen most often driving around the Lanes or off into the West End proper, maybe sometimes even into the greater portions of Rhy'din for some new blend or other that he has to set up trade for, is his 1968 Dodge Charger. He rebuilt the beast -Delilah- from a frame and rusted-out old engine he found in the scrap yards some years back. Since his move into the Lanes, and the founding of his pub, Delilah's become a sort of mascot for his business.

Commander Fence Commander Fence is a young, runaway Halfie that just so happened to find himself in the right place, at the right time. A surrogate son to Mister Chensy, the Commander is the Lanes' appointed liaison with the law enforcement and vigilante advocates of Justice that come through, as well as being the Lanes' own appointed Lawman. Commander Fence is a five foot tall male, older teens by appearance, with the build of a wrestler. His body is usually covered in riot gear, and he carries both a gnarled old baseball bat (signed by Babe Ruth near the handle) strapped to his back, a large, pump-action shotgun kept tethered across his front, and a colt .45 in a holster at his hip. He rides a navy blue Harley Davidson Fat Boy.

Notable Locations

The Watchtower The Watchtower is the name the residents have given to the tallest building in the Lanes, a four-story apartment structure that precious few enter. The Watchtower is the central gathering place of the "Shades", which the residents treat with some measure of respect. The top floor of the Watchtower is always lit up, from the old furnishings of the apartments or some new sources of lighting running along the ceilings, likely Christmas lights or a particularly large number of candles. The few that brave the apartment building usually never make it past the lobby, and those that have speak of a strangely masked, cordial, horned creature that laughs more than he talks, offering tea and subtle warnings against trespass in the future.

The Mall The Mall is the largest setting amongst the Lanes, spanning the first floors of every building but the Watchtower, and is filled with shops and bazaars. It's never busy during the late nights or the mornings, but during the afternoon and early evenings, the color of the Shadey Lanes comes out in force to do as they wish. The Mall is host to such locations as Goodvibes Music and The Wailing Teacup. The entire Mall is managed by the widely known Mall Boss, Mister Chensy.

Goodvibes Music With everything from accordions to zithers, and all the music you could dream of, Grammy Goodvibes has one sweet setup here. The fresh cookies on the counter are just a bonus.

The Wailing Teacup With more teas on-tap than most pubs can boast about ale, Perce runs one of the most interesting pubs in Rhy'din. Several of his blends come pre-mixed with various liquors and stimulating ingredients, so don't count this particular pub down as one for the faint of heart...Or liver.

FioHelston

Date: 2009-02-21 12:56 EST
Fionna Helston's Studio and Apartment

In the warren of hulking warehouses, dead-end alleys and shifting streets that make up the WestEnd, it's easy to get lost, whether you want to or not. Reality tends to scratch its arse and thumb its nose at logic here.

Perfect for Fi, even without the added charm of being magically instable and unscry-able. A place where she can hunker down and hide. Olly-olly-oxen-free.

The trouble for her, of course, was always going to be finding it. Fortunately, she purchased the converted warehouse in one of her more lucid lifetimes and solved that dilemma, she thought, rather nicely.

She painted the Eye.

Her eye, to be precise; larger than life. About thirty feet from street level, it stares out from the exposed East wall of the building, watching over her immediate neighborhood, and serves as her homing beacon. On the rare occasion she's feeling humorous, she calls it the "window to her soul," and that might not be far off the mark. Others have added to it over the years: Makos, ravers, the occasional piss-drunk punk. The graffiti changes, the streets twist in new ways, but one thing never varies. The Eye always guides her home.

Formerly the smallest of three warehouses operated by a now-defunct flour mill, the building skirts along the inside edge of the warehouse district, not far from the charred remnants of the old Oak and Ash.

Two heavy sets of wide overhead doors on the South wall of third- and fourth-floor levels lead out to narrow ledges turned railed balconies. Once, there was a swing-arm boom that shifted pallets of heavy flour sacks from the ground to the upper floors, and back again, but that is long gone. The doors remain.

In the evenings, she opens them to the night as she paints or plays her cello counter-point to the throbbing music that always seems to be spilling from someplace along the sprawling neighborhoods of her chosen home. The noise, the dirt, the rawness of the twisting WestEnd streets make her feel alive. Sometimes, she even forgets to be afraid.

Sid

Date: 2010-01-17 04:57 EST
I decided to include this here because, as an integral component of the character Sid, I do consider this as part of building and sharing a world. These Colors Sid still flies with pride are on the back of her ubiquitous leather jacket. In character this glitters, shimmers and shifts with an otherworldly light and essence. Those characters that are familiar with runes and other such symbols would recognize the power behind those utilized in the Dead Warlock Colors.

This is what I have as representation. Know that I suck at photoshop or any visual art that portrays anything other than the abstract. If someone would like to help me (I want to have this done on the back on my own leather jacket someday) I would gratefully appreciate another more qualified than I to help clean this image up for me (I do have the image here also in Photoshop layered format knowing this will help anyone willing to help me).

The symbols in order from the top of the wand down are as follows: (Aquarius, Aries, Joy, Strength, Warrior, Venus , Mars , Creation, Wholeness, Triquetra, Gateway, Infinity, Protection)

http://i139.photobucket.com/albums/q315/Crymmsun/DeadWarlocksPatch1.jpg

Finn

Date: 2012-04-04 21:40 EST
The Sacred Flame

http://i.imgur.com/3Cdd6.jpg



Near to the WestEnd Eye, the studio and home to Fionna Helston, can be found the shelter known as the Sacred Flame. Once a movie theater and stage play venue, since WestEnd has fallen into decline the former owners have abandoned it, leaving it to fall into decay. There are boards over the windows, the marquee is shattered, the facade mostly peeled away.

Come inside.

Most of the refuse of decay has been cleared away, much of it by the few miscreants that have come here over the past few months, discovering this hidden treasure with eyes that can see secrets.

There are places, sacred to those meek and low, the refugees of the world seeking nothing more than shelter from the darkness, a little warmth and comfort, a place of safety. Those that find it first are often inspired to uncover the secret, to share it with others, and thus such good places become bastions of light against the darkness and shadows.

The shelter itself is overseen and run by a man who is only known to the inhabitants of this place as Finn, a mysterious figure, unremarkable in his appearance, softly spoken, coming and going at any and all hours. Despite this, he keeps the shelter with remarkable efficiency, and all those who reside within the shelter's walls treat him with the kind of respect that is normally reserved for those who are regarded as holy.

The outside doesn't look like much, it's true. Inside is cleaner, warmer, more welcoming to any who wish to find themselves a place to rest, if only for a night. There are bunks against the walls, mats upon the floor, hammocks hanging from various places - there is no shortage of beds here, no shortage of space. Meals are served at regular times, breakfast, lunch and dinner. Soup and sandwiches are almost always available throughout the day, and come nightfall blankets and beds are never in short supply.

There are a few rules, though.

Those wishing to stay are welcome, but you must help in whatever ways you can - be it cleaning, or painting, or cooking, or washing laundry. There is no shortage of jobs to do here, and those refusing to help will no longer be welcome. Everyone contributes here towards everyone else.

In this place, all are welcome, be you angel, demon, human, god, dwarf, gnome, gremlin, ogre, troll, vampire, werewolf, android, alien, or anything else. There are wards in place to prevent violence by any entity against another, save for in the defense of others or of the shelter. Those attempting to do violence or otherwise attempting to bring evil onto the premises will find themselves forcibly removed without warning. Indeed, when the shelter first opened a few tried their luck at pushing the mysterious caretaker, to their lasting regret. Since that time even the Makos keep a respectful distance from the shelter.

You may come and go as you please - there are no locked doors, no barred windows here. We only ask that you help as you are able, and that you keep the peace.