A traveling salesman, Tomas' pathetic career followed the same track for years: Find a town. Try to sell wares. Get run out of town. It was a meager existence. Lost in the woods and desperate one winter, Tomas struck a deal with a Krampus. He acquired a blessed pack sure to contain the perfect item every time. Whatever a customer required would be there in Tomas' inventory. In return, why, all he'd have to do was snatch a few wayward children and throw them in the pack before skipping town. Who would miss an orphan, after all, and little tots went missing into the dark black forest all the time. That wasn't so much to ask! And that part about eternal damnation and cursed items and acting as a willing human host for a monstrous demonic entity, well, that was all fine print Tomas could work out later.
And so business was good. The money came in, but Tomas never stuck around any one place too long lest customers start to wonder about their bad luck or missing children. They might start pointing fingers, or worse, pitchforks. So Tomas stays on the move. Leaving Streitstadt, however, has proved to be challenging. Something always delays him: the river floods. The bridge collapses. A tree falls on the road. Piles of corpses appear. He'll make it out sometime soon, hopefully before his money runs out or his sins catch up with him.
(Jana here. We're gonna put Clopen on a shelf and let him live on in NPC land, RIP)
- Not fond of children.
- Big Ears.
- Occasionally turns into a monstrous, hairy, child-stealing demon, but never remembers doing this.
- Sometimes his eyes do the goat thing.
- Jack of (most) Trades, Master of none.
- Extroverted to a fault.
- A neutral outsider to the troubles of Streitstadt, he will happily sell to anyone or anything as long as their money is good.
- Whatdya Buyin? If you need ANYTHING, Tomas can hook up you. Be forewarned, eager players and unaware customers, that your specially requested item will be of a foul, unholy nature and may bring unexpected misfortunes.
- New to town, he doesn't have any friends. He doesn't have any friends anywhere, actually.
- Painfully uncomfortable on and around sanctified grounds.
- Chronic liar, flatterer, and gossip.
- Still tastes like a plain old delicious human.
- His omnipresent and oversized merchant's pack. It contains all the standard goods a merchant would carry: pins and ribbons, tobacco and razors. But it also has just the thing you're looking for. A silver inlaid snuffbox for a gift? He has that. A single spoon to match the one you lost last year? He has that. Oranges in February? He has that, too. All of this and more, all for the right price.