Penelian Dereesel is short, even as halflings go, not quite making three feet in height.  Quick of eye and wit and as friendly as the day is long.  He dresses as might be expected of a farmer's son, in homespun and a goatskin vest.  True to his chores, he has the present scent of his wooly charges about him, though the scent of goat about a young hin in Landsedge is far from an unusual occurance.  His hair is a bright red, the color of the clay tiles that cover so many of the roofs of the town's more weathly residents.  Green eyes and a smile that comes all too easily give him an impish look.  Predictably, whether it's the country upbringing or just the natural halfling inclination, his feet are bare as the day they first entered the world.