A funny looking little halfling, dressed in black with bells on.
There seems to be a chord to pull which fastens them all down if he wants to
sneak. He walks around with a woeful look on his face and can generally be
heard talking of death. Kitted up with all sorts of bits of adventuring garb he
makes his way through the world as cheerful as one who worships death can do.
Still his tales of woe have been told to raise the spirits of others, merely
for the fact that THEIR lives aren`t as bad as his!

Standing over a mighty 3 foot, a strange face greets you, pale and yet the eyes wide with information gathering and a worried look follows the face down. This be Penville. Lost to the wilds and returned as a king. Just that neither he nor anyone knows this, so it might not be true. With a giant axe nearly as large as he is, attached to his back, sling and shortsword at his belt, he still manages to look jumpy for all his bravado.

And yet not alone is this little man, for more often than not he is upon his mighty steed, the one known as Bigby. A dog of riding and war, or so any observer would deduce from this dogs canny tricks - maybe Penville does have a talent after all? Wrapped in barding, the dog seems to survey all scenes with that of a mastermind air about him.

Born to the wilds, a barbarian at birth, yet stirring within is the poet and artist trying to escape. Shackled to the small prison and surrounded by death (usually friends) Penville tirelessly works towards helping those who haven't died yet. Training to work better with Bigby, he leads forward a team the realms have heard but of little of so far, and more, oh so much more is yet to come...