Stranger Strangers

Art by Ian McCaig

Here's my crack at the classic "a stranger enters the tavern" trope. I tried to make each one into a potential hook/encounter in their own right, as well as suggestive of something about the world outside the tavern. In any case, it's 10 NPCs to use if you want to have someone unusual enter whatever establishment the PCs frequent and shake things up a bit.

1	A foreign soldier, mustache stiff from the dust of the road, with a belt and boots of shimmering, iridescent snakeskin. Chained to his belt is a pale looking child, who carries the soldier's bedroll and the ammunition for the heavy iron rifle on the soldier's back, muzzle carved to resemble a woman’s face and singing mouth.
2	An old woman, tall and slender, wearing the worn remains of once fine garments. Several of the silver buttons of her coat are missing, and her bracelets are lacking in jewels. She leans wearily on a heavy longsword that she is using as a walking cane: its tip scrapes the floor of the tavern with each step.
3	Two young men, a new couple, lost in conversation with each other, barely even pausing to register that they have entered the tavern. One of them wears two ostentatious wedding bands on the same finger,  one of gold and fire-bright ruby, the other of silver and midnight sapphire. His partner is missing both ring fingers.
4	A drunken washerwoman, all fumbling feet, wandering eyes, and wide smile, with a kings crown perched precariously atop her head. If it is mentioned, she grows defensive, declaring with a warbling voice and many hand gestures that “she earned it, fair and square.”
5	A lumberjack with a bundle of wood on his back and bright, crackling eyes. He attempts to sell logs to whoever will meet his gaze, claiming they are the last wood of the old forests. He is ready to demonstrate by burning a log or two in the fire if his claims are challenged.
6	A sailor, weather worn and grey despite his apparent youth. He heads to the fire, where he stands, clothes steaming. Once dry, he will begin to ask around, looking anyone who is the captain of a ship headed across the Alabasterine Sea, though the proper coast is a months journey from the tavern.
7	A lion with a pelt the color of a green forest pool, standing sedately in the doorway. It makes no move to enter, but will not budge for any trying to exit. Growl-purrs like wet leaves being torn. Its teeth are long and dark, the color of stones in a fast moving stream.
8	A merchant, fresh and bright, in new clothes with shining boots and buttons. A delicious smell wafts from his wicker pack, so tantalizing it makes all food and drink entirely unappetizing and nearly repulsive in comparison. He will avoid all questions about the pack and his wares, always bringing the conversation back the quickest ways to get out of town.
9	A swordswoman in uniform, bleeding profusely from her forearm. Her face is strong and cheerful, brown eyes dancing around the room, lips curled with smug and self congratulatory confidence. Wrings her bloody sleeve into her beer until it is rosy, offers a swig to any who remark.
10	A royalist investigator, dressed in an outdated silk skirt and jacket, carrying an overstuffed folder and a well maintained pistol. Dark hair struggling to curl free of a over-tight bun.  She wants to see original deed to the tavern, is not above threatening violence.