Raddimer

[Stempest]

Name: Raddimer
Age: 120
Class: All rogue
Race: Halfling
Alignment: True Neutral
Deity: None

Physical description:
This halfling is rather non-descript. He is not particularly short, nor tall, nor thin, nor fat. His hair is a dark brown, to match his eyes. He is dressed in rather fine-looking clothes, which are riddled with pockets of various sizes. His purse hangs heavily at his belt, accompanying a number of leather pouches. The pack he carries on has strangely-shaped bulges bulges in all places, and the top flap struggles to cover its contents. When the halfling speaks, his voice exudes confidence in himself, while at the same time avoiding a serious tone.

Backstory:
Born the son of a farmer, at a very young age Raddimer soon got bored with a life full of early mornings and hard work. Wishing his parents well, he set off with a few gold pieces, the clothes on his back and a loaf of bread supplied by his concerned mother. He was not sure what his intention was, but he was glad to get away from the farm.

Not long after, he found himself in a small, non-descript town. Having spent all of his money, he found himself barkeeping in the tavern to keep himself fed. Certainly not what he had envisioned when he left the farm.

A few weeks on, and one morning saw the arrival of a group of adventurers. He had known that adventuring was a common profession in these parts. There was a goblin tribe in the area which frequently harassed travelling merchants, and these sorts of mercenaries were often hired as protection. Despite the stories, he had never met an adventurer in person. These ones struck him as particularly well off, with large coin purses and gleaming weapons at their belts.

He spoke with the adventurers, and they told him that they were in the area because they had heard rumours of treasure buried somewhere in the sewers of the town. Raddimer listened politely, but wasn't convinced that anyone would be foolish enough to leave anything of value in a place like this. A while later the adventurers left.

The next day, the same group returned to the tavern, rather more irate than the previous time. They told Raddimer that they would like to pay for his services as an adventurer. Slightly wary, but eager to leave that blasted bar behind him, Raddimer agreed, although he couldn't imagine why the group should want him in particular.

Raddimer followed the group to the sewer entrance nearest the tavern, and descended into the drains with the adventurers. After a few minutes of walking through the tunnels, trying to keep his feet dry, Raddimer realised why they had chosen him. The group had stopped before a small opening in the wall, obviously too tight for any of them to fit through. Without a pause, the leader of the group annouced "Right, in you go." The idea did not appeal to Raddimer, but then, neither did the tavern. With a quiet sigh, he heaved himself through the hole...

A couple of hours later, the group was sitting by the river, washing the smell of the sewers away. There had not been any treasure to speak of. The group, however, had decided that Raddimer may be of use to them yet.

Over the next number of months, Raddimer travelled with the group, acting as a scout and tunnel-rat. After a few near misses, he became rather adept at spotting traps hidden in walls and floors. He had decided that if he was going to make any money on this venture, he had best stay alive to spend it. Over a period of a few years, Raddimer became rather adept at disarming traps and picking open locks to get to wherever the group decided it needed to go.

However, Raddimer began to grow tired of being the expendable member of the party. One morning, he announced to his comrades that he was tired of adventuring with them, and he wished them well in their future adventures. With that, Raddimer's life of adventuring was over.

These days Raddimer lives his life as a merchant. He is always on the lookout for a deal, and has become quite good at making money. In his spare time he tinkers with gadgets that he found during his travels, and occasionally makes his own doodads when the urge gets him.

[stormspirit]

Might want to amend the age before I approve this. Halflings hit venerable about 100. Everything else however is fine.

[Stempest]

Fair enough. What sort of age do you suggest I make him if I'm going for relatively young, but not really young. The equivalent of a human 20-25 year old. About 30 years old?

I'll make him 30, unless someone's got any more advice.

(When I said 120 years old, I was working off Halflings living to 350. Not sure where that came from, now that I find they live to 150...)

[stormspirit]

Thirty is fine. Halflings have a longer lifespan than humans but not overly so.

Apporved and Welcome to Layonara.

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