<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/6a/bd/aa/6abdaae185d09fccd9d98303baa7288f.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Gillie Pussyfoot<br/><strong>Race:</strong>Forest Gnome<br/><strong>Class:</strong>Rogue<br/><strong>Background:</strong>Guild Artisan; Baker<br/><strong>Trinket:</strong>1 oz cube of unknown material<br/><br/><strong>Character Sheet:</strong>https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1208358 (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1208358)<br/><br/><strong>About You:</strong>When she was 16, Gillie climbed the highest tree in the forest where she grew up and looked out over the canopy, only to spy a curious black cloud rising into the sky....wait, no, that's Fern Gully.  Gillie was raised in a tall tower with no means of esc...wait, nope,<em>that</em>is Rapunzel.  Sorry, give me a moment.<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/18/4d/58/184d58f5012c22d301324ec1a9780baa.jpg)</div><br/><br/>Huh.  Okay.  Gillie grew up in a forest with a load of other gnomes, who went about their days doing things like expressing the anal glands of civet cats to collect the fluid for perfumes.  Gillie didn't really fancy the idea of playing with animal butts or milking albino sugar gliders.  Or collecting bat guano.  So, instead, she went to work for the village baker, learning to make delicious nut pies and hearty fruit cakes to feed to everyone else, whose jobs left them in desperate need of sweets.<br/><br/>Still, though she loved to bake and was quite good at it, Gillie felt she was meant for something more than her provincial life.  Oops, sorry, slipped into Beauty and the Beast for a moment there.  It was all well and good making delicious treats for the locals and sneaking off to play 'Dagger & Sheath' with the local boys, but their whining about how she played it wrong and all the blood just got boring after a while.  She wanted<em>Adventure</em>™ and<em>Excitement</em>™.<br/><br/>So, she packed up her baking tools, gathered the gold she'd managed to save up, strapped her tortoise to her thigh and set off toward the nearest city to seek her destiny.  Two weeks later she had been robbed four times, mistaken for a lost child and forceably escorted to the local constabulary twice and propositioned once by a<em>very</em>stupid orc.  Rather than try and explain the concept of size disparity and how one couldn't fit five pounds of...,let's say potatoes, into a one pound sack, Gillie simply convinced the orc she was more trouble than she was worth via judicious application of her paring knife.<br/><br/>Her natural skill with the knife, and cunning, caught the attention of a local thief who decided to take her under his wing.  Well, that's what<em>he</em>said.  She figured it had more to do with him being well into his fifties and too arthritic for roguery anymore.  He needed a young, nimble protégé to keep him fed, clothed and off the streets, and Gillie was more than happy to be that protégé.  For the next few months, Tibalt the Halfling taught Gillie everything he knew and she, in turn, kept them both fed.  But, as with baking, eventually learning and simply using her new skills to 'get by' wasn't enough.<br/><br/>Gillie never learned to read, and you can bet Tibalt regretted ever telling her it wasn't necessary when she announced with excitement that she had marked her X on the dotted line at Acquisitions Inc.  She left him the majority of the gold she'd managed to pilfer from the patrons at a tavern on her way back home, and ignored all of his dire warnings as she packed her meager things.  Convinced he was just trying to get her to stay, she bid him farewell, told him the gold would see him through until she could send more, then set off to buy herself a few more things for her new life...as an Adventurer™!  YEAH! -freeze frame on fist-pump.-<br/><br/><strong>Personality:</strong>I like to think of myself as a genial person, always willing to help my fellow man.  While it<em>is</em>true that I can be somewhat volatile, I wouldn't put much stock into the vicious rumors of people who are<em>clearly</em>jealous of my natural charm and skill with bladed weaponry.  I've never once stabbed anyone who didn't ask for it, either explicitly or indirectly, through word or deed.  And of those blessed few, none died from their injuries.  That's not to say I'm morally opposed to killing, or incompetent at it, just that I am clever enough to be aware that killing without a good cause(and someone higher on the food chain to blame) will land you in the clink.  I wouldn't do well in prison.  Have you seen this face?<br/><br/><strong>Adversaries and Allies:</strong><br/><br/>Tybalt Redvine (a.k.a Redvine the Rogue a.k.a The Waterdeep Kid): Tybalt is a seasoned veteran with a brilliant mind, even if his aim is no longer as true as it once was and his hands shake.  He taught Gillie everything she knows about thievery and calculated violence(she had the random violence part mastered) and in exchange she takes care of him, sending the gold that keeps him in drink and those meat pies he loves so much.<br/><br/>Brody Manbun: A human soldier that Gillie once dallied with, back when she still lived in the forest.  He was deeply in love with her, and she enjoyed having sex with him and riding around on his shoulders to feel tall.  When she left home, she was utterly oblivious to the fact that she was callously breaking his heart.  Her casual disregard filled him with hate and he has devoted himself to all manner of vicious and elaborate revenge plots designed to maim and/or kill the gnome who tossed him aside.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/d5/19/e6/d519e6c3487e01e6387f5d4a3e597fe8.jpg)</div><br/><br/>This...is Frank.  Frank is Gillie's pet tortoise.  He's about the size of a cereal bowl, and he travels around in a special harness that Gillie has constructed out of leather straps.  When she is on the move, Frank can be seen dangling from her belt by her left thigh, like a rock in black leather bondage gear.  Luckily, Frank has no idea how utterly undignified this is, and even if he did, he could likely be bribed into not giving a fuck with liberal applications of fresh tomato and blackberries.<br/><br/>When at camp, Gillie frees Frank from his leather straps to let him roam freely.  He usually doesn't venture far from her, because he<em>is</em>smart enough to realize that she is the one with the fruits and vegetables that he enjoys eating.  Every so often he will get adventurous and crawl away from camp in search of wildflowers to munch on, but he never gets far.  'Cause he's slow.  'Cause he's a tortoise.<br/><br/>Frank also likes having his shell brushed and his chin scratched.  Just saying.