Gud Pishoothar

Gud Pishoothar, the Baker

In the lower quarters of Valeford, everyone knows Gud's bread: a loaf out of his oven stays soft for a whole week, and more than one family lives on nothing else. His pastries are another matter. The moment he tries to make art, the dough collapses, the creams run, and the figures look like accidents. Gud laughs louder than anyone. These days, burghers come down from the fine districts to buy his disasters and enjoy them at their own tables. He takes their coin, kneads on, and can't see what the problem would be.

Describe him

He greets you with a laugh that fills the shop before the door has even closed behind you. The smell of warm bread clings to the walls, to his hands, to his apron. Behind him, his wife keeps the counter and the order book, and you quickly understand that she is the one who knows what's left to sell. He works without pause, arms deep in dough up to the elbows, humming between batches.

Play him

Knead something while you talk, even the corner of a napkin, and never really look at the players. When they come in, barely turn your head: "What'll it be?" When they point at a loaf on the shelf, answer with a big smile: "That one's already reserved." Do it again for every loaf, without ever explaining that everything has to be ordered the day before. And keep, underneath, that there's no malice in it: he's simply somewhere else, in his dough, and it's his wife they ought to be asking.

What he says (rarely)