Baron Samedi

As you make your way through the town centre, a tall, dark skinned individual garbed in a dark suit, purple shirt and white cravat emblazoned with a skull. His top hat is ornamented with a skull, bound to it by dark leather strips, offset by a large raven’s feather, long dreadlocks hang from underneath it, trailing down his back. Gold rings adorn his fingers, golden cufflinks each emblazoned with skulls. Various bones hang from his belt. All of which, looks to have seen better days, dirty and tattered in places. Nobody in the centre seems to notice him and yet give his position a wide berth.

“The name’s Baron Samedi trader in all things fine and exotic. Whatever your heart’s desire, I possess, please allow me… To make a guess.”
To the Dragonborn - “You, noble, yet lost, you seek that which is dead, but at what cost? The rage inside, when it wanes yet thrashes, perhaps a ring, to awaken de ashes?”
To the Tabaxi – “And you, small and furry, perhaps something to make your features blurry? A hat I say, is what you need, maybe to con those overcome with greed?”
To the Minotaur – “Tall with girth, yet you’ve lost your mirth, by the looks of that horn, you’ve been collared and torn, perhaps a headdress, to feel reborn? To inspire those, around the campfire, use your words, no drums or lyres.”
To the Human – “What are thee? No rhyme for you, no treasure to mind, your inner light make my eyes blind.”
“For all this you ask? A meagre price and no I won’t ask you for your rations of rice. ‘Tis bones I need, big and strong, a deal like dis, ye can’t go wrong.”
“Where to start? Outside this village, dwells a gnoll camp, ripe for the pillage. They raid, they plunder, Usiria suffers, do me a favour and rend them asunder.”