Blood and Sand: A Dark Sun Campaign
What gives locals pause about this man is his queer appearance. Boss Laughter might be human. No one can tell because he hides his face under thick face paint. He cakes on white paste across his face so that the skin seems to crack and flake. Black paint surrounds his eyes and mouth, so his yellowed eyes and red wound of a maw contrast awfully with the bright white concealing his features. At a glance, he looks like a fat skeleton.
The interests captivating Boss Laughter are many and varied, but it is alchemy for which he is best known. Give him about half an hour, and he can whip up whatever a person needs, from explosives to curatives, and everything in between. And because he keeps his ingredients in unlabeled containers, no beat-walking constable can make heads or tails of their contents, so Boss Laughter stays free to go about his business.
A freak and a vagabond, Boss Laughter crawled out of a dark hole a few years ago. No one knows where he came from, but not long after he showed up, all sorts of stories swirled around the strange man: stories of people-snatching, horrid experiments, and murder. His apologists, and there are a few, claim he has acquired the bad reputation because he’s different, which is to say he’s ghastly, and his manner of dress only emphasizes his unwholesome character. Given the district’s nature, had Boss Laughter been anyone else, he’d have been run out of town. The strange man earned his place there through the goods he peddles from his little cart. A man with a strange infection stands a good chance of recovering from it after a visit to Boss Laughter. An assassin needing a discreet poison can do worse than to stop by the rickety cart with the chiming bells. People have a way of overlooking the odd when it serves their purpose.