Ol' Magda
Ol’ Magda, as everyone calls her, has run Brimstone's general store for longer than most folks have been alive. Stubborn as a mule and just as tough, she’s a wiry, sun-wrinkled tortle woman with iron-gray hair pulled into a tight bun. She wears a patched-up apron over dusty clothes and always has a cigar tucked into the corner of her mouth (whether lit or not). Her left leg is a crude, self-made magitech prosthetic—stiff and clunky but good for kicking troublemakers out the door. She’s practical to a fault, never wastes words, and has a sharp eye for cheats and thieves. She doesn’t ask questions, but she also doesn’t give credit. Indents, outlaws, and travelers all get the same treatment: “Pay up or move along.” Despite her gruff demeanor, she has a soft spot for underdogs—though she’ll never admit it. Sometimes, when no one’s looking, she might slip an extra ration into an Indent’s sack or look the other way when a desperate soul swipes a stale loaf of bread. Magda’s Mercantile sells all the basics: rations, tools, work gloves, rope, bedrolls, and the occasional bottle of gut-burning whiskey. If you need it to survive, she probably has it—though rare or illegal goods require a little extra persuasion.
Notable Quotes
"Ain't no charity in Brimstone, son. You pay or you starve, simple as that."
"You break it, you bought it. And if you can’t afford it, well… I got a shovel out back."
"You ain't the first to think you can escape this life. I hope you're the first to make it."
