His manner is that of a nervous bird or a jittery child, and his speech is swift and clipped as if he’s eager to finish every conversation he starts. Yet Bokken is no hater of gold, and his eagerness to sell the potions he makes is well known to many of the travelers in the area—he usually sells directly to Oleg, but he’s willing to sell to the PCs if they ask. He can craft any potion of a spell of 2nd level or less on the adept spell list, and generally keeps two potions of cure light wounds, two potions of endure elements, and a potion of cure moderate wounds handy.
Bokken also has a favor to ask the PCs as well— Gathering Fangberries.


Further, he’s likely to mention his younger brother if any conversation is allowed to go on long enough—Bokken spits as he does so, bitterly holding up his right hand and indicating his missing pinky finger: “Bastard cut that offa me the last time he hit my mother, Desna rest her soul. But he took off right after to live in a hollow tree down south rather than face the guards, so I guess it all worked out well enough.”
Bokken decided to become a hermit a few years after his brother (whose name, like many other details of his childhood, he can’t quite recall due to senility) left home and their parents passed away. Originally, Bokken had toyed with the idea of tracking his bully of a brother down and getting revenge, but the wildlife in the Greenbelt was too frightening and dangerous, so instead he settled down not far from the edge of Rostland to live the rest of his life in nature.


Kingmaker Pryllin