Name: Folks call me Urchin. Nah, it ain’t my real name, and nah, I ain’t gonna tell ya my real name. You’d ‘ave ta get me shit-faced drunk before I tell ya that.
Species: Mostly human, with a tiny bit of dwarf thrown in on my Ma’s side.
Age: Uhh… I dunno. 16? 17, maybe? Ma never really kept track.
Height: 5’4 give or take… But I ain’t finished growin’ yet. Gimmie a couple o’ years, I’ll reach 6 foot fer sure.
Weight: ‘Bout 110. Yeah, I need ta put some meat on my bones, I know… Got anythin’ ta eat?
Hair: Rusty Red an' always messy
Skin: Pale an’ freckled
Occupation: Look out, errand boy, an’ dirty, rotten pick pocket ta boot.
Place of Birth: The good ol’ Arek Slums
Home: The Shallows
What ya see. Short, scrawny, patched baggy clothes, few scrapes an’ scars here an’ there. Nothin’ special ta look at.
Skills and Abilities
Well, I’m bloody quick, I can tell ya that. City guard ain't never gettin' that noose 'round my neck. I can climb any buildin’ an’ scamper my way across the roofs, no trouble. An’, of course, I can snatch the shirt from off ya back before ya even know I’m there… Plus I make fer a surprisingly good scrapper in a bar brawl.
Not sure what ta tell ya, really. I’m pretty easy goin’ most of the time, but I got a mean temper an’ I really dunno when ta keep my mouth shut. Might come across as rude sometimes, ‘cos I say what I think an’ dun sugar-coat nuthin’, but trust me, it ain’t personal. It’s how I talk ta everyone. So long as ya ain’t a complete cunt (an’ assumin’ ya dun catch me with my hand in yer coin purse) I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. Also, Ma' always said I were a dreamer an' I l let my mind wander too much, but I dun think... Oh look, a butterfly.
Biography & Lore
What? Really? Ya wanna know ‘bout… Uh, okay, but it ain’t an interestin’ story. After my old man knocked up my Ma’, he skipped town before she even found out I were in ‘er belly. My grandparents was the old fashioned type. Gave ‘er the whole shtick ‘bout havin’ a baby outta wedlock were disgraceful, she’d brought shame on the family, blah, blah, blah… Then they kicks ‘er out onta the streets without so much as a copper to ‘er name. So, pretty young girl with no place ta go, an’ no coin in ‘er pocket, ya know ‘ow this song goes. Ended up in the Arek Slums workin’ The Honey Pot… That’s a brothel in case ya ain’t heard of it.
So, that’s where I were born. Not the best place fer a kid ta grow up, but I guess it coulda been worse. Ma kept me outta trouble at least… That is, until some disease or other she got from one of ‘er clients caught up to ‘er. Died a few years back. An’, o’ course, a brothel ain’t really safe for a kid alone, so I buggered on outta there an’ headed off ta make my fortune in The Shallows. I guess it’s like ol’ Madame Jade always said, “When ya hit rock bottom, the only way ya can go is up.”
Drugs and Deceit
Cherry Rose Inc Reunion
Between a Rock and a hard place
Dried Moose Meat Anyone?
Through the Thorns
Underground Fighting Ring
The Grimere Mansion
Riddles of the Fae Beasts
The Town of Osteriam (The Buried City Thread 1)
The Raid on the Buried City (Osteriam)
Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
Being Rambled At
The Aspiring Apprentice
On the Rocks