This cheerful halfling rogue roams the streets of Gerelden while hooded, backpacked and cloaked. A short sword is the most obvious weapon in his possession but he also carries daggers and shurikens that vary in both their number and level of concealment.

He spends his days in the city’s more affluent districts, stealing money for food, heating and rent from the passers by. During the evening he is most likely to be found inside a warm tavern enjoying food and friendly company, though burglaries and other night operations are not unheard of. He is impulsive and sometimes childish, being the type to give more thought to immediate rewards than future consequences.

Though his profession makes him too cautious to give away his real name, he is abundantly generous with his fictitious ones. These are often invented on the spot and lean towards the ridiculous, with aliases such as Teacake, Poochy and Lord Cherrywell. Others are rude: Bill End, Peter File, Morningwood the Third and Mike Hunt. The latest is Mars, god of war. How he managed to acquire knowledge of ancient Roman mythology is anyone’s guess.


The City of Gerelden has been Mars’ home for the past three years. He has been arrested several times for pickpocketing, attempted burglary and petty theft, but all were in the first year of his residency and are recorded under names that he has not used since. The few passing efforts from the city guard to hunt down such a small-time thief amounted to little more than putting up wanted posters vaguely approaching his description. It would be a waste of their effort to do anything more, for there are lots of halflings in Gerelden and lots of bigger fish to fry.

Mars has far greater problems with the gangs. The Riffs demand his services now and again in exchange for the right to sell stolen goods on their black market. The Turnbull ACs were once frequent employers, but have been avoided since he dropped a pancake on a Portolee in the name of the man’s scorned halfling daughter. He was captured no less than four times by the Sigrast Roaders after he burgled the home of a senior member, leading to an equal number of daring escapes that eventually impressed more than they annoyed.

Finally, the Droogs do not like to see other thieves on their turf and will chase away the competition if they have the numbers. Though they never used to be a big enough gang for this to matter, in recent months they have significantly expanded their operations and begun regarding increasing amounts of pickpocketing territory as their own, needing it to train their swelling ranks. Mars has begun deliberately intruding on their activities, partially for the rush but mostly in childish retaliation. Perhaps not the best move.


The Whisperer in Darkness Wistark