Beboniliphanicus Malanthiridarimas, or “Bebo” as his friends call him, was the third son of a poor goatfarmer. His family led a simple life, not having the money to buy anything more than just what they needed. “The only wealth you cannot spend, is knowledge.” His father once told him, and from that day forth, little Bebo, for he was short even for a gnome, sought to learn as much as he could about everything. By the time his older brothers were starting their apprenticeships, he had already learned four languages, and knew as much about the local history as the elders of the village.
Then came the day when the “big people” arrived. A large band of treasure hunters passing by in search of an abandoned castle stopped at Bebo´s home, asking if they could spend the night in the barn. This was welcomed, allthough bebo could tell his father did not entirely trust the strange travellers. That evening, as the travellers settled in for the night, Bebo, hungry for information about the outside world, snuck up to the barn to watch the travellers. When they were certain the gnome family was asleep, the band took out theyr bags and emptied them onto the blankets provided by the gnomes, revealing a large ammount of gold and jewels. They had stolen it from a nearby town, and were not looking for a castle. They were robbers. As Bebo watched, they began splitting the loot between them. But soon, the robbers began arguing about their loot, and before Bebo knew it, blades had been drawn. The little gnome sat there, stunned, as the robbers attacked each other with murderous glee, fuelled by their greed. The battle raged not only in the barn, but was soon carried out onto the field in front of the house. Bebo saw his father coming out of the house, his crossbow in hand, demanding to know what was going on. In seconds, the robbers turned upon him, killing him before he even got of a shot. They killed Bebo´s two brothers as well, and his mother was drowned in the well, just to keep her quiet. The robbers then picked up their loot, now three fewer, so that there was more for each, and left, taking the family´s cart and horses.
Bebo hurried as best he could to the nearest town to get help, but he collapsed on the road from exhaustion sometime before dawn. He awoke lying on a soft bed, with candles all about him. When he arose, he was greeted by an elf. The elf gave no name, and did not ask his. Instead, he told Bebo that a great tragedy had befallen him, and he wanted to help him make sure this would not happen to him again. When Bebo, somewhat suspicious, asked why the elf wanted to do this, the elf replied: “I am nearing the end of my days. I have not taken an apprentice yet, but should you so choose, I will teach you my art so that you may show those humans what real power is.” Bebo did not need long to think. In the years that followed, the elf tought him many things. Once he deemed that the gnome was ready, the elf sent him from his home with a few provisions and his trusty spellbook, hoping that his legacy had been placed on good shoulders.
Bebo has never gotten over his mistrust of the “tall folk” and trusts them only so far. It was after all, their greed that caused the deaths of his family. Ever curious about learning new things, he aspires to learn as many different spells as he can. He has found that he as a talent for Divination magic, while disliking the cold and the smells that go with the arts of necromancy. He dislikes physical violence greatly, feeling that it is beneath thinking creatures to engage in it. He carries his father´s crossbow with him, the only physical heirloom the old gnome had. In his travels he has become quite the scholar, allthough people do not often seem to consider him worth talking to, simply because of his size. He himself knows, of course, that true intellect sees past size and race. He has been known to converse with dwarves, elves, orcs and even a goblin or two, just to find out how much they know and if there is anything of interest to be learned from them, but most of his travelling companions laugh at this. They do not realize that it is them that are laughable.
This is my current pc in the campaing being run in my gaming club. Gnome Diviner, 2nd level, chaotic neutral. He memorises a maximum of 2 attack spells each day, preferring to use his spells to get his friends (and the stupid tallies) out of trouble. His feats up until now include roasting an orc chief with a shocking grasp spell, as the chief was standing in a small pond, and using “mage hand” to levitete a bottle of acid onto the hinges of a cage the pcs were being held in.
Ps sorry for writing in english, but I´m currently in Denmark and my keyboard is not “icelandic friendly”. :)