The Rastifer

The Clothier


height:5 ft 7 inches tall
Weight: roughly 10 stones
Hair: long stringy White Hair
Build:Thin, wiry, old man with tough skin like jerky left out to long
Primary Deity:Dionysus and, Clotho the youngest of the fates

This Rastifer has a gentle smile, an honorary old man jib about him. Don’t let that kind heart full you. He will poke you with that clothiers needle if your in the way. Hunched over a bit from years of costuming for the rich, or the blessed. Always to be in dis-repaired garments of his own. Always to busy making something for some one else. Wise to the point you might think he was never a child and, in the same way just slightly senile enough to always be one now.


One of the more notable elders in the community of Go-Glen. (the rastifer) has seen many things come and go. it wasn’t until one faithful night when he was making wares that the past king had burst into his shop. in need of a masquerade costume. he wanted the best that could be made.

Not knowing how to proceed he just said “That can be done sir. You will have it by the time the banquet starts tomorrow.” Not knowing what he was getting himself into. It may have been fate the gods or sheer damn coincidence. But several night previously He had already begun. While bartering for some new rivets from Gidious the blacksmith and forger of all thing metal also good friend. HE was struck with a headache and asked Gidious for Poseidon’s bull mask using real horns. kind of a joking challenge to him, just so he could leave and take care of his head pressure.

The next Day Gidious showed up with with the most immaculate piece of bronze sculpture you have ever seen, was as if he was staring into the minotaurs eyes himself. Along as a bonus and a kind of jab at his friend he brought a breast plate as well. The two of them had a grand laugh and (rastifer) putt the mask away in his own personal collection. Whilst doing so he ran across one of the finest furs he was ever given. stumbling into his personal collection of gifts and trades he had decided to start a masterpiece to fit the mask.
Working feverishly as if been guided by something some sort of personal force he had never felt before. A glee had come to him. He had felt this way once a long time ago while secretly drinking with his friend celebrating Dionysus day of drinking. So in his fevered creation he gave thanks and sacrificed one of his oldest bottle of wine to his all, so, favorite god. That is when you get drunk a lot and, sing songs and leave treats around or that is what it looks like to those whom do not actually partake in the festivity.

It was almost near completion when he came up to the main part of the shop from downstairs in the basement, to get some straps of finely cured rabbit leather that was mysteriously left at his door the morning before. Late (rastifer) Jumped to the sound of the Door slamming open. Startled up from behind the counter. The royal guard bursting in followed by the king. It was at that moment who knew where his talent lay.
They Next evening at the first annual Masquerade The King wore the most amazing piece of costuming that, some say is what started wars and, made alliances and, in some case brought about peace.

The Rastifer

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