Name: Grog
Race: Goblin
Age: 10(ish)
Type: Wise kid

A scrawny little critter, with wiry hair sticking in all directions and a mouth full of razorsharp teeth. Grog’s light green skin, or what’s visible under sort and grime, is covered in rags that can only be called clothes in the loosest of terms. He cares little about it, as Long as it’s warm and easy to move in.

His whole life Grog has been able to talk to animals. He mostly kept it a secret at Home, after his father had made clear that stuff like that was not only unnatural but bad for business, but after running away He embraced it. For a few years or so, until He met up with the gang, He only kept the company of animals, learning from the rats, cats and birds how to survive. Needless to say, he’s practically feral by now. But He is also very calm, almost at peace with himself, Living life with a curious detachment. He doesn’t think about tomorrow, since he’s busy being in the middle of today. He also generally follows the lead of the more proactive kids, satisfied as Long as his basic needs are met.