He distrusts day-light and only moves around at night. His eyes work better without all that loud glare and hot noise from the sun. Years of nocturnal scavenging have given his scaly skin a pale, washed-out appearance. Like petroleum jelly or canning wax left too close to the wood stove.
Armed with his venerable jabby-stick and a well-earned reputation for being incredibly ornery when he's treated uncharitably, Bagnar wanders about the Old Places, rotting about in the ruins and salvaging all sorts of rubbish and junk, mot of which he tinkers with and eventually crafts into various tools, contraptions or weapons.
Those who get on his good side can barter, trade or even buy some of the things Bagnar has cobbled together. He also has forgotten more about the local region than most others will ever know, unfortunately, he really has forgotten it all. But every now and again, when he's in a particularly good mood or someone gets him talking about his younger days, sometimes Bagnar remembers things no one else ever knew...things that could make the right person or persons rich...maybe...
Some of Bagnar's Trade Appropriate Thingmabobs
- A bicycle built for three, with three swiveling weapons-mounts.
- A self-inflating raft that has been modified to extract hydrogen from available water and use it to float like a blimp. A very explosive blimp.
- Twin mortars, welded onto a frame meant to be strapped onto a very large rodent. The rat died a few years back. It was a good rat in a fight.
- Voice-activated wrench-set. Metric.
- Lamp on tripod. It strobes black light. He doesn't remember why he did that.
- Folding sheet-metal bins that collapse into flat panels that can then be rolled into cylinders for storing them until needed. Somehow the things get smaller and lighter as they roll-up. If rolled the wrong way, they get larger and heavier.
- Modified air-pump now shoots dart the better part of half a mile. Not terribly accurate, but it can put a hole in something that gets close-up.
- Grappling hook that actually grapples on command. It doesn't release right away, sometimes it takes three tries to get it to let go. But that's a minor glitch.
- Six boxes of parts for a still he was building for Gomphrey, only the scurrilous punk never did come back with whatever it was he had promised me to build the darned thing. (This took place many years ago, back when Gomphrey was still a young adventurer. See Ten Short Adventures Set 1 for more about Gomphrey.)
- A heavy set of pipes, tubes and cannisters welded and duct-taped onto a two-wheel hand-truck. This is a combination flame-thrower, scent diffuser, humidifier and chemical sprayer. It's fully loaded. The guy who commissioned it never picked it up. You can have it if you'll just get it out of the way.
A Few of Bagnar's Tall Tales and Recollections
- Bagnar recalls 3 random things about one particular hex on a map he has laying around his workspace. You can have the map. (Determine hex randomly)
- One of his old journals details the annual migration paths of several species of migratory creatures, including certain nomadic humanoids and mutants, all of it logged over the course of 5d20 years in cramped, tiny hand-written notes. There are pictures. He's open to making a trade for this journal.
- The old tinker takes down a massive thigh-bone converted into a map-case. Inside is a map picked-out on a sheet of expertly tanned and still supple Pigmen hide. The map details a major Pigmen enclave and denotes handy things such as weapons caches, larders, prisoner-pits, fuel dumps, and so on. The only catch is that Bagnar doesn't recall off-hand where exactly this particular Pigmen encampment is any more.
- Did I ever tell you about the time I single-handedly caught a Radiation Whale (MF p. 91) using only a piece of candy and three feet of dental floss?
- Suddenly Bagnar recites the recipe for compounding a powerful defoliant that is deadly to Pumpkin Men (MF p.90), and other such plant menaces. He repeats the recipe three times in a sing-song voice then promptly forgets it.
- There is a blue-speckled herb that grows up in the high country West of here. If you boil it down and mix the liquid with some good, fatty oils, like rendered Sand Whale blubber say, this stuff makes a salve that repels Mansquitoes (MF p.82) better than just about anything, short of a flame-thrower. He'll draw you a picture if you like, but he has a few photographs stuck in his cookbook, if he remembers.
- Kudzu-Curare works wonders in terms of paralyzing Fishmen (MF p.72) if you cut it into one-foot sections and toss it into the water over their nesting sites. Course the stuff is juicy and messy and will paralyze you just as good if you don't pay attention to what you're doing. If you mix it with candle wax and well-chewed gum or maybe some lard in a pinch, it can be slathered onto your edged weapons. It'll keep for a few days, long as you keep out of the rain.
- He has recipes for boiling-down a Black Pudding (MF p.62) and for pickling the heart-stalks of Brain Plants (MF p. 64) that he swears by. He used to win cooking contests back in the day. Which is a good way to infiltrate some of the local settlements hereabouts. They might shoot you most days, but if you let them know you're there to challenge their cooks to a cook-off, well, you had best be darn sure of your culinary capabilities. If you can at least make a respectable showing, like say second place, you might have a whole bunch of newfound friends. Just stay out of the walled-towns down along the Green River. They aren't so picky about what meat they put in their pots, if you know what I mean.
- Heard tell a few years back, a young girl from the Deep Woods, figured out how to tame herself a family of Casteroids (MF p. 65). Those mischievous beasts got her into all sorts of places. She keeps to herself these days. Built a bunker of sorts out past the big lake. What was her name again...
- There's a way to get rid of the Burrow Tuber (MF p. 64)...but it involves raw eggs, pumpkinseed oil and something else. Tastes like paint thinner mixed with sheep spit, but it does the trick. (He'll eventually remember if not badgered).
- Saw a crazy light in the sky a few weeks back. Several of them in fact. But this one. Well, it crashed back in the hills maybe two-three miles away. I haven't had time to go check it out yet. Maybe you'd like to go take a look?
- Mants (MF p. 82) can't handle their liquor, and smoke puts them to sleep just like bees. Just make darn sure you aren't anywhere near when they do wake up. they are fiercely bad waker-uppers. A little kerosene mixed with sheep manure will foul-up their sense of smell better than a dozen cannisters of tear gas. Funny thing is that when you mess up their sense of smell, they can't talk to one another hardly at all. A lot of their language is chemical-based. Or so it seems to my recollection.