Name: Ulten 'Spooner' Froig
Description: a drow of medium height and less than delicate build, Spooner's general look can best be described as slovenly - his clothing, which is styled more after human rather than drow fashions, is somewhat dusty and stained, and hints at a nouveau-riches mentality. He seems to be fairly old, at least in his mid-3rd century, and seems to have wooden dentures. His diction is fairly slow and unrefined, with a grandfatherly voice and a tendency to misspeak to complete the package. His hair is gray with greenish and yellowish stains in places. Tends to drink a lot to drown out his terrible social skills and lack of education. It helps surprisingly little.
Background: there are many ways for one to get rich in drow society, and Spooner Froig in his ripe old age stumbled upon an unlikely one - farming. Two solid centuries of work he did, overseeing the farming and breeding of lichens up topside in an isolated farm he got for cheap - land was crap, a pile of rocks more than anything, but so was his luck at the time, so it was the best he had. Only thing that grew there was lichens, so that's what he farmed. Lots and lots of lichens. It was hard for the first century or so for a drow like Spooner, since the pay was absolute shite in the best of years, and he often had to munch on his own produce to not go hungry, since nobody in their right mind typically bought lichens, least of all the drow, who preferred fungi for all decorative and dietary uses. But people were, fortunately, often not in their right mind, and Spooner did get some money out of it, and even got a wife and kids to go with his stumbling, terrible enterprise.
Littlest of his seven total kids, Ulten the Youngest, who people just called Young, now there was a dreamer. He took to lichens like a reindeer, he did. Could order around a slave around the seeding routine since he was twelve, before he could even walk or talk properly. And he grew up to be a strapping young lad who loved lichens above all, and took up the trade with a passion ol' Spooner could never muster. Breeding prodigy, that one. All his other kids went on to adventure - not Young. He had bred lichens for less than thirty years before he stumbled on a pretty grand thing - one of the peltigeras he was growing turned out to be a mighty fine herbal cure. Got TB off surfacers like piss out of a drunkard, in Spooner's own words. And then Young bred a spice parmelia that tasted like heavens and helped 'gainst the plague. Each couple of years, Young'd have something new, or an improvement on the older stuff, and Froig lichens sold like hotcakes. Soon Young ran the entire dang farm, and Spooner didn't have to do a thing. So he didn't, and retired. He and his wife went their separate ways, and left the farm with enough money to live comfortably on the surface for a long time. His wife shacked up with some elven spice merchant, but Spooner didn't do anything like that - he was way too ugly and not nearly rich enough to compensate. So he decided to live out the dreams of his youth - find adventure just like his kids. He could still see perfectly well, and he knew his way around the surface, sort of, and if he went underground, they'd probably laugh at him and then stab him repeatedly. So he bought an axe, a brigandine and a pair of fine boots, and then set off into the world, with only his tolerance for hard alcohol, knowledge of lichens, centuries of pent-up frustration and his rather limited wits to help him on the way.
Traits/talents: Spooner has a very good resistance to poisons (including alcohol) and disease from munching on lichens for 90% of his adult years, can eat and drink a great deal of repulsive things due to the same, and has an intimate knowledge of surface forests for a drow, particularly lichens. He is, however, cripplingly dull in a conversation or similar social situation, being able to speak at length only about lichens and the methods of their farming, and takes to other groups of people like oil takes to water - just doesn't blend in any meaningful way.
Stats:
Fire: 2+1=3
Earth: 5-1=4
Water: -1-1=-2
Air: 2+1=3
Author
Topic: The Lone Isle RPG III (Read 14088 times)