Titch, a half-elven warlock (urchin).

Titch had no other name that he could remember.  He had grown up on the streets and had only a vague recollection of a smiling female face that he presumed had been his mother.  He still kept a cheap bead necklace that might have been hers.

Lack of decent food and the harshness of life on the streets had resulted in his small size and pinched features.

He had presumed he would die on the streets and he thought that time had come when a bunch of thugs mugged him for his few possessions.  As the fists and boots rained down blows upon him a...voice?  A feeling perhaps, from deep down or far away, seemed to call to him.  He answered, having no other options, and agreed to whatever it was that he was being offered.

With that his attackers started to laugh, uncontrollably, and staggered away, leaving him beaten and bloody.

But since then he had come to terms with his mysterious patron.  He still did not know who or what it was but it promised a way out from the streets and that was enough.

In fact more than enough!  Somehow he had hooked up with Bob.  AT least that was what he called the big brute; his real name being something like Bobrokorobaravorarian.  A warrior out of legend just needing a sneaky little guy like Titch to keep him out of trouble.

They had worked together now for quite some time and life seemed particularly good at the moment...