Angus "Mack" Gheever
Mack is a 52-year old male gnome (OOC...puts him at about 25 years old or so in human years). At 4'7" and 180 pounds, he is rather average for his race (OOC...please tell me if that is not accurate). Mack has slate-colored eyes, with brown hair arranged in a very scraggly bowl cut, as if he can't afford or doesn't care to get it cut very often nor very well, yet has no facial hair. As with most gnomes, he is rather short and stout, with a strong center of gravity. Mack's lone outstanding physical feature is his rather bulbous nose, which looks as though it were built to develop and withstand the heartiest of sneezes. Mack tends to quietness, preferring to remain in the background, and generally only makes strong eye contact with those who he trusts a great deal or whom he may be trying to deceive. Mack doesn't care for his first name, and so he often finds himself saying "Just call me Mack".
Mack tends to "dress down", wearing only ordinary clothes and shoes, but carries a small backpack, pouch and wineskin. Unlike most gnomes, Mack appears to carry only a somewhat large, very fancy-looking and oddly-shaped crossbow, which is slung across his left shoulder (he is right-handed) and which he lovingly calls Johnny Rocket. He has a hip quiver on his right hip containing what appears to be an unnecessarily large number of crossbow bolts.
Mack has had a rough life to this point. Having lost both his father and mother to a wasting disease at around the age of 35, just as he was hitting his adulthood, Mack took up an apprenticeship (out of gratitude and a lack of having anything really better to do) with the druid who had tried desperately to save them, who he called Master Fenrir. He lived with, learned from, and came to greatly respect Master Fenrir over the course of the twelve years he spent with him. Mack truly enjoyed the life of caring for a grove and it's inhabitants. Master Fenrir even helped Mack learn how to use a rapier. The great druid considered the rapier to be the perfect weapon, finely balanced, acutely sharp, and always under control. He always said "Unlike a sword or an axe, the rapier does not control your movements, rather you control the movements of the rapier." They spent countless hours in the distraction and intellectual entertainment of rapier techniques.
Unfortunately, that life would come to a sudden end, as Mack made what he considers the greatest mistake he could have made. Mack was on a simple herb-picking errand, gathering rodion, foxglove and luscious mudpuppy berries when he happened across what appeared to be a family of dead squirrels, eight of them. They were all lying there in what seemed to be a rictus state. Recognizing their death and wanting to honor them, Mack found an appropriate burial site, not once wondering why all eight of them might have died so suddenly and in the same place. He built a small cairn as a marker over the grave, and then continued on his errand. As Mack returned to Master Fenrir, he found him to be exceptionally angry that someone had killed eight squirrels by suffocating them, not realizing apparently that Mack was involved. Even Mack, at first, did not put the two situations together in his mind, not noting the coincidence of the same number and same type of animal. So the great druid left to investigate the situation, leaving Mack there to tend to the grove. When Master Fenrir returned, he was no longer as angry as he had been previously, but he was certainly not pleased...and directly displeased with Mack, as it turns out. His investigation had revealed to him that Mack had buried the squirrels alive, effectively suffocating them. He was not at all interested in the explanation that Mack attempted to give him about how they were dead, not alive. The druid banished Mack from the grove. To this day, Mack does not understand what caused the squirrels' "false death", nor does he forgive himself for having killed them. He even has nightmares about the situation (which of course are always far worse than what actually happened), and occasionally a situation will even cause a waking flashback for him. He has been very unhappy since, and this had unfortunately caused him to fall into desperation for a way to survive.
Wanting to avoid nature and the guilty memories it brought back to him, Mack wandered to the nearest city. Unable to find work, as he had no real skills at that time, he fell to running with a group of individuals who could best be described as despicable, under the iron-fisted guidance of the fearsome Viper Overlord and his "Army of God" street rats. Yet they accepted him more than he accepted himself, and so he began to learn their life, finding the distraction from memories to be the only way he could stand to live with himself. Under the care of the "Army of God", he learned how to use a basic shortsword. Though he longed to be able to use a rapier again, he certainly could not afford such an expensive weapon. Amazingly, Mack found that he had a real talent for the things they did, as he quickly gained skills that he would previously have considered to be unworthy. And along the way, he also discovered that he loved to tinker with things...loved to figure out how things worked. At first, it had simply started out as a way to figure out locks and traps, but it developed into almost an obsession, as his natural curiousity and bit of a compulsive nature drove him to go far beyond those simple devices. The intellectual challenge and distraction from memories that technical things seemed to provide him was something that he found it very difficult to turn away from. Thus, his interest in and development of his personal crossbow came about.
Eventually, Mack decided to leave the "Army of God" behind, not being satisfied with the Viper Overlord's ends nor their methods, and strike out on his own again...now much more comfortable with his personal skills and interests. Of course, not having any real or steady employment, he finds himself wandering a great deal, and always with a glance over his shoulder to see if the Viper Overlord or his minions might be lurking there.
...I prefer a man who will burn the flag and then wrap himself in the Constitution to a man who will burn the Constitution and then wrap himself in the flag.