#npc project

shh..

I have been working on my new set of NPCs again.

“It’s thankless work, it is,” the burly, broad-shouldered man says, shifting from one foot to another. His gaze, sharp and keen, sweeps across the Crossroads, and he breaks away without a word to direct an incoming group of refugees. He talks to them in short, clipped sentences, his face stoic - almost grim - but there’s nothing rude about his demeanor. Then he spies the little girl at the back of the cart, clutching a ragdoll tightly to her chest, and in an instant he’s changed into a whole different person. He speaks softly to her, hands her a wool blanket, and soon is able to coax a shy, hesitant smile from the child. When he returns, he’s returned to his usual gruff manner. “These poor sods lost everything when the mages and templars went crazy. Went from bad to worse, the world did, when demons showed up. Then there were them bandits, too, plucking from folks escaping the madness.” He spits on the ground beside him, his face scrunched up with disgust. “Like fecking vultures ripping out entrails.”

He stares up at the sky. “‘Course, the Herald put a stop to that, didn’t she? Told her to stay away, but she ran straight into where the templars and mages were fighting. Thought she was mad, I did. I reckoned her and her companions would turn up by nightfall, all bloodied up, but they didn’t, not that day, nor the next, and well, I,” he shakes his head. “I thought she was a goner. I couldn’t stop working, though. Had to keep the folks here safe. Not an easy task, mind, not when the nights are cold enough to freeze a man’s flesh clean off his bones. Lost a couple of the elderly,” he takes his helmet off and holds it against his chest, “Maker keep them in peace. So few came with blankets or warm clothes; either the templars, or mages, or bandits got to them. And wasn’t like we were in a city, where I could just nick a blanket off a clothesline here and there.” He sighs. “Didn’t have much hope. Days were getting colder, and people just kept coming in. All those young’uns-” His gaze flickers to a stretch of open land where several children chase after each other, their shrieks filling the air. His face softens.

“She came through, she did,” he murmurs. “Two weeks after she left. Here I was, thinking that she was little more than supper for the wolves, but she came back. Oh, she was banged up and bruised, but she came to me, she did, stood right in front of me with a wide smile and told me she’d found caches that them apostates had hidden away, crates with blankets and food and warm clothing. Gave me a map with locations marked, too, and said I shouldn’t have too much trouble getting there. And you know what? We didn’t get no trouble from no mage, or templar, or bandit, or demon.”

He shakes his head again. “Force of nature, she is. Makes sense, though. Andraste would send no one else as her Herald, would she?”

I needed a small break from building and creating stories for the residents of Willow Creek and so I decided to start working on the custom NPC’s I want in this save. They will all be created by me and played as residents for some time before I assign them to NPC jobs. After the jobs have been assigned I have to evict them and mark them as “unplayed” for these sims to keep their NPC roles.

The Master Gardeners