Everything about Jondul marks him as a foreigner, from his flowing robes to his strange accent. He’s human, olive skinned, about 35 years old, solidly built, but not actually very muscular. He has leather armor and wears a dagger in addition to carrying a walking staff.

A trader who’s no longer in possession of the goods he traveled so far to trade, Jondul is always on the lookout for money-making opportunities. That said, he’s scrupulously honest in his dealing.

Jondul secretly finds the worship of Deus very odd, but as a stranger in a strange land, he does know when to keep his mouth shut. His own forms of worship are radically different from that of the Sidonians. He wears numerous amulets and totems. His pack has a seemingly never-ending supply of sacred icons and statuettes. He seems to break out with a new god every other day, another goddess for every new challenge or opportunity; and all these deities seem to behave differently. Some (apparently) need incense; others food or wine. One (according to him) expects a particular song on the night before the night the moon is full. These gods communicate their demands using (of all things) the movement of birds, the shapes in the clouds, the (supposed) swirls and clots in the dregs of his (sacred, of course) teacup, or (worst of all) the entrails of some dead animal.

Jondul Alreem is nothing if not devoted. He always listens to what they have to say.