Nasty, brutish, and short; this describes both Runty's life so far, and him. He's stupid and he knows it, and it eats at him all the time. His face twitches often, an aftereffect of the beatings he used to get from his drunkard father, and his hands are heavily scarred, a remnant of when he got his revenge, beating his father in to a pulp. Runty isn't his real name; it's an epithet his acquaintances used to refer to his diminutive (even for a halfling) stature, and it's stuck. Only his father called him by his real name, and he refuses to tell anyone what it is.
He's convinced the world is out to get him - not without justification given his youth - but he's decided he's going to get the world before it can. This means he'll seize on any option he can for power, but being rather thick and foolish, he can't tell a likely winner from a loser. Big, ostentatious displays of power impress him easily.
An appetite for cruelty drives him to crave combat, so that he can hurt others, even if he's not very good at it. Experience has begun to teach him that he should stay out of the fray and use his shortbow, but whenever he sees virtuous or beautiful enemies, he's more likely to leap in to the thick of things so that he can truly enjoy their suffering as he maims them.
Strangely, he's got a soft spot for porcupines, and will never, EVER allow one to come to harm if he can help it.
|Special||Speaks only simple, almost broken common|
Equipment of note: