Chirurgeons, Barbers, Dentists and Healers.
A strange hybrid of barbershop, apothecary, dentist’s chair, and battlefield surgery suite. One half of the interior is finely appointed with polished mirrors, leather chairs, and jars of tonics. The other, behind a screen or wall, resembles a miniature hospital with gurneys, surgical tools, and labeled cabinets of bone saws and replacement parts.
Proprietor: Mareth Poldren – A quiet, well-kept man in his late 30s who speaks through a brass speaking-tube and rarely leaves his office behind the frosted glass door marked “Proprietor.” He inherited the shop from his father, who died under odd circumstances (falling from a great height in the center of a field). It’s whispered Mareth suffers from fear of the outside, born of the trauma. Most of the staff has never seen him in person, only heard his gentle voice giving thoughtful instructions. Rumors persist that he has some deformity or ailment and uses the office as both refuge and prison.
Staff of the Copper Comb & Bonehouse
Barbers and Stylists
Voller “Snip” Hedgelyn Master Barber. Rotund, rosy-cheeked, with a voice like honeyed beer. He’s been cutting hair since before Mareth was born. Wears twelve razors in custom loops on his leather apron. Unfailingly cheerful but carries a kukri in his boot “just in case.”
Mistress Ellava Crin – Senior Stylist. Striking and elegant, Ellava specializes in noble cuts, braiding, and styling for high society. A former stage performer turned tonsorial artist. Known to hum haunting opera arias while she works.
Hobb Wick – Apprentice barber and ear-cleaning enthusiast. Young, awkward, but intensely dedicated to hygiene. Keeps a personal satchel of ear scoops, tweezers, and lotions. Once extracted a beetle from a customer’s sinus cavity.
Tarnel Greel – Moustache shaper and pomade-mixer. Lean and impeccably dressed, he has a flair for the dramatic. Known for outrageous facial hair experiments on willing patrons. Keeps a mirror shard tucked in every sleeve.
Pint “Needle” Drosk – Tattooist and head shaver. Compact, bald, and heavily inked. Works silently but with unmatched precision. He offers scalp tattoos free to burn victims and refugees.
Dental and Prosthetic Services
Dr. Hennil Kaasth Mithrin human – Chief Denturist. Stern and silver-haired with precision tools always at his hip. Makes custom gold and bone teeth, with optional enchantment-ready fittings. Worked the field tents at Taurdain after the siege—doesn’t like to talk about it.
Glint Sparvo Goblin Herazed– Prosthetics Artisan. A half-blind tinker who makes exquisite glass eyes, silver jawplates, and carved hand-replacements. Smells of glue and soot. Claims he once made an artificial spine for a duelist who lived another decade on it.
“Patch” Remda Vok Wyrlish Human– Bone-stitcher and assistant chirurgeon. Towering woman with a scarred face and one gloved hand. Known for her bedside manner and strength—she can set a dislocated shoulder with a wince and a twist. Once carried two wounded men on her back to safety during the Taurdain retreat.
Healers and Chirurgeons
Brother Samun Dill elvish– Lay healer and herbalist. Former monk of the Verdant Path. Smells of lavender and moss. He blends tonics and poultices from a traveling kit worn like a bandolier. Sometimes speaks in rhymes, especially with children.
Meera Shar elvish – Field Chirurgeon. Thin, severe, with ink-stained hands from constant notetaking. Obsessed with anatomy and battlefield triage. She is rarely seen without her stitched-leather operating apron and iron tools. Keeps a record of every surgery she’s ever performed.
Jarn the Steady – Orderly and stretcher-bearer. Broad, mute, and gentle-eyed large human. Communicates through gestures and chalkboard. Once held a screaming man still while Meera performed a leg amputation in a storm.
Tyvi Larks– Kangga Human- Receptionist, apothecary assistant, and emergency runner. Young, fast-talking, and eager to learn. Wears a belt of labeled oils and breath-freshening tinctures. She handles scheduling, dispensing medicine, and occasionally shouting for help during surgeries.
General Mood:
The front of the shop is warm, lively, and full of laughter, smells of clove-smoke, and the scrape of razors. The rear hums with quiet discipline, smelling faintly of blood and tincture. Staff are quick with jokes—unless someone mentions Taurdain, at which point their expressions grow guarded and quiet.
Shermans fantasy world 