Mhicsal Greenburrows

Mhicsal is the typical Gnome in most instances but somewhat untraditional in others. He stands a tall three foot two inches. His skin is a woody brown color with very bright blue eyes. At the age of 49 he has yet to show any signs of facial hair.

About 12 miles east of the small village of Arrowshire, in the wooded hills that border the fringes of Arrowdale and the Devon Mountains, lies the Gnomish community of Clan Vrimpledokil. The normal count of folks for this settlement is about four score. All have lavish burrowed homes but at a good distance from these can be seen well crafted surface buildings that are used for dealings with the inhabitants of Arrowshire.

Mhicsal is the only child of Mhicsalwrimlock and Floragleam Greenburrows. His father is a well respected Illusionist and skilled in the art of alchemy. His mother is a proud devotee of Tor, so much that she has taken six treks to the Mountains of Grife to partake in the rituals of Tor with the mountain Dwarves there. Mhicsal admires and loves his parents greatly but since his youth he had set his mind to pursue a different path of life. He quickly learned how to spot his fathers illusions and it developed into a game between the two. In time Mhicsal realized that not only magic could produce illusions... quickness of hands could do the same. He put his new talent to the test at every opportunity.

His mother quickly became concerned for the sudden change in Mhicsal's behavior. She had high hopes that he would pursue the Greenburrows' tradition of pious servitude to Tor like her mother, her grandmother, and her revered great grandmother Ellawisk Greenburrows. Ellawisk is well remembered and honored amongst the inhabitants of Vrimpledokil, in fact on the fourth day of spring a celebration and feast is held in her honor. Almost three hundred years ago a band of ogres had descended from the Devon Mountains and made for the nearby Gnomish community. The ogres caused a great deal of destruction and unfortunately the death of fourteen Gnomish warriors. It was Ellawisk that finally put an end to the ogres' attack. Not one of the beasts survived her powerful magic granted from Tor.

Mhicsal did his best to assure his mother that he was just having some youthful fun. During the year of Mhicsal’s fortieth birthday a surprising event occurred that ended Floragleam’s worry that her son might walk a less than savory path in life. A prosperous Arrowshire merchant was beaten and robbed in his home by a small band of brigands. They snuck out of Arrowshire and headed east, hiding in the woodland hills. Mhicsal happened to find the thugs' camp, though he did have help from a friendly fox that he was on speaking terms with. Mhicsal crept into their camp and managed to take back the coveted chest they had stolen from the merchant. The young Gnome also made off with a finely crafted silver bracelet and a pouch full of coins.

Before returning the chest to the proper folks, Mhicsal conceded to the urge to open it. Mhicsal realized that this was not some typical lock that guarded the chest's contents but with some determined patience and a steady hand he was able to pick it and open it. Mhicsal went straight to his mother and revealed to her what he had done and found. He gave to her the chest, which was returned to the rightful owner. Floragleam was pleased that her son used his ‘talents’ to return the stolen goods but was more at ease when, after deliberation, Mhicsal gave to her a silver bracelet and a pouch of coins as an offering to Tor.

In the days that followed, Mhicsal tested himself more and more. He often concealed himself, moving from one place to the next, hoping that not a soul would see him. His favorite game was to take an item from a person and place it back on them but in a different pocket or pouch and then wait and watch.

His innocent pranks were taken in typical Gnomish fashion until Mhicsal managed to sneak into the grand burrow of the venerable Branko Vrimpledokil and replace his ruling scepter with another, meticulously crafted by Mhicsal and a close friend. The worst part of his prank was that the fake scepter was intended to leak a very odorous substance, which it did all over the clothing of the clan leader. His punishment was to tend to the cleaning of the leader’s personal quarters and laundry for 60 days.

During this period of service, Branko could not help but be impressed with Mhicsal and his manners. Keeping his hands in his pockets, as he promised his father he would while in servitude to their leader, Branko began telling Mhicsal tales of far away lands and heroes. Mhicsal loved stories and history. He is very proud of his journal, but for the most part the stories within are all from the telling of Branko.

A couple years had passed since his time with his leader and Mhicsal was feeling restless, though he made sure to hide this emotion. He yearned to explore the lands outside of his clan and Arrowshire but did not want to express this openly for such thought of leaving the clan was frowned upon. By chance, around mid-summer, Vrimpledokil and the clan elders, whom his father was one of, held a meeting to discuss possible future trade routes. It was decided that one among the community, if willing, should go out and explore and take note of surrounding towns and cities.

Voices were loud and shrill as all the elders were sure that no respectable Gnome would be willing to venture so far from their home. Vrimpledokil tapped his scepter to quiet the elders and stated that he had made his mind up as to whom to ask to take this mission. Mhicsal was summoned to the meeting and had to bite his tongue to contain his happiness that he was considered for this task. He agreed, but with a speech of how hard it would be to be away from his loving home. Near the end of his speech he turned to regard Branko and saw that his leader gave him a quick wink of the eye that no one else seemed to catch. Mhicsal realized then that Branko had deciphered his secret desires of exploring far away lands in the time he was in servitude to the leader.

Mhicsalwrimlock and Floragleam were sad but proud that their son was setting out to gather the needed information to make for more prosperous trade. The entire clan gathered to see Mhicsal off on his journey. A beautiful leather bound journal with gold gilded pages was presented to him as a parting gift from his parents. Branko Vrimpledokil too was there to say his goodbyes and parting wishes. He gave to Mhicsal a small leather pouch with a few coins in it and a small rolled scroll.

"In the pouch is a scroll with the name of a Half-Elven lady named Cattalinia. She can be found about eight score miles to the south west of here. I have included the details you will need to find her on the parchment. She will give you what you desire, my young man." Branko again winked to Mhicsal and said, "Oh, and do be a good lad and gather the information we desire and don’t be too long in returning."

Mhicsal’s eyes were moist as he turned around for the last time and waved to the people and place he called home. His mood turned merrier though as he continued down the trail that would take him to Arrowshire and beyond. He decided to open the pouch that Branko gave him to make sure he was heading the right way. He opened the scroll and read the directions Branko left for him, they were more riddles than exact directions. Mhicsal’s face blanched as his nose reeled. Shrill laughter broke the silence of the woods as Mhicsal realized that Vrimpledokil had lined the pouch with a vile smelling substance. He managed to rid himself of the smell by the time he reached Caer Falken Inn.