Name: Vandegar Swallowspit
Also Known As: Vandegar the Magnificent
Race: Human with a dash of Elf
Real age: 78
Apparent Age: 45
Height: 5'3"
Weight: 108 lbs. soaking wet
Description:Vandegar is a small man, short of stature and fine of bone. He is forever dressed in a robe made of dozens of pieces of fabric, all of different textures, colors and quality, held together by a bizarre mixture of threads, chains, buckles and, concealed along the back, his hidden secret, given to him by a gnomish acquaintance- a device he has named after the sound it makes, "The Zipper." His sleeves are long and absurdly wide, hiding the long-fingered hands that are the surest mark of his elvish blood. His face, on the rare occasions that the hood is drawn back, is thin and somewhat ratlike, with large (invariably bloodshot) eyes and thin cheeks, likely explaining his fondness for the hood. Were any to see beneath the robe, Vandegar's body is tightly knotted with muscle and scars, one of the sort of people who seem to be made up of nothing but bone, muscle and gristle. Certainly the elvish blood in his veins has kept Vandegar younger than he ought be, as although he generally moves in a stumbling stagger thanks to his personal habits, he is not the near-cripple one might assume.
Equipment: Most everything Vandegar owns is kept within the pockets sewn into the sleeves of his robe. These sleeves contain dozens of brightly-colored, generally collapsable items (scarves, false jewels of exceptional color, paper flowers, etc.) to make appear and disappear. As his standard lifestyle is that of a wanderer, Vandegar also carries objects useful to a man wandering Pal Tahrenor who's had no formal training but has heard an awful lot of scary stories: silver, wolfsbane, several small vials of holy water (each from a different church), three-quarters of a horseshoe, and several necklaces holding a great many gewgaws guaranteed by various shamans, hoo-doo men, spirit walkers and magi to be the absolute, honest-to-the-gods real thing. One of them might even do something. Vandegar will, by the time he wanders into Thar Shaddin, be carrying some twenty-three bishani and several paste jewels, some fitted into brass jewelry that could, in the right light, pass for gold for just long enough to get out of town. Beneath the robe, Vandegar wears worn peasant clothing, but his footwear is of the highest quality (feel free to ask about the boots. It's a great story, and only five bishani to hear it). As for weapons, there are three small daggers within the voluminous sleeves, but although Vandegar knows a hundred tricks with them, he has no idea how to fight with them. As well, Vandegar, like anyone who would travel the wilds of Pal Tahrenor, carries some basic survival items, such as a flint, a waterskin, a few medicinal unguents and some bandages.
Occupation: Professional prestidigitator (sleight-of-hand artist).
Family: None.
History: Born of a peasant woman's casual rape by a pair of guards in the port city of Shallen's Fen, Vandegar's name tells of his origin. In that city's native tongue, van de gra translates as, "The unwanted gift" (Van meaning a gift, de being a negative attachment to gra, and gra being the present singular form of the verb gvir, to want). He was sold for six bishani and a small quantity of local narcotics to a master Krepnet, Shallen Fen's premier slaver. Shortly thereafter, he was sold again, this time to one Bogin Slinn, a successful thief who had decided to do what most all successful thieves do: go into management. Vandegar did well as an apprentice thief, his naturally quick reflexes and nimble fingers giving him an advantage in lockpicking and housebreaking. By the time he was, at best guess, ten years of age, the boy was an accredited junior thief, and attempting assignments on his own. He was quick, he was skilled, and he was talented... but he was also curious. He would stay for hours in a house he had broken into, not ransacking the place (that would have been done within minutes of his entry) but simply investigating each thing that caught his attention. Although he could tell you the karat, cut and authenticity of a gem from a dozen paces, he would still find just as much fascination in a piece of colored glass. Despite his best attempts, Slinn could never beat the curiosity out of his pupil, and that curiosity extended to most everything, including, unfortunately, most of the illicit substances available in Shallen Fen, and no port is ever short on such. His drug of choice was Fallow, a drug most famous for how varied its effects can be. The Fallower's habit of staring for hours on end at relatively mundane objects did not mix particularly well with Vandegar's natural tendency toward staring. And so he left the glorious profession of sneakthief, and this is how (feel free to skip ahead to the next paragraph if you're not interested): while acquiring an artifact from the Temple of Seven Fates, Vandegar passed a particularly intricate tapestry, and stood in front of it, mouth agape, until the temple guard's patrol happened upon him. Snapping out of his daze, Vandegar fled. The chase led through the bazaar and into a passing circus, whose members had had no joy of the city guard and willingly hid the thief fleeing through their encampment, then set an urchin to running and began yelling and pointing after the boy.
Vandegar was safe, but at a price: he was now a part of the circus family. For the next forty years, Vandegar was a clown, or a juggler, or a barker or whatsoever needed to be done at the moment. Why Vandegar left the circus, and what happened to the circus subsequently, is another story entirely, and not one he has told. For a slew of years, he has been a wanderer, following the paths and roads of the world, telling his stories and showing off his tricks to whomsoever he happens to meet in exchange for a bit of food, perhaps a bit of drink, and likely most of your jewelry and the contents of your purse if you're not careful.
Magic: Vandegar's magic is 95% fakery, show and distraction. Due to the dedication and determination he has shown in the field of recreation chemistry, however, he is no longer sure which is the 5% that's not. The one thing most people are sure of is that there couldn't possibly be such a sheer amount of stuff up his sleeves, although that could be explained through extensive folding and impressive tailoring. The only outright magical things Vandegar has going for him are side-effects of his elvish blood responding to the Fallow bubbling in his brain, warping reality without his concious control. These alterations tend to be minor in nature, such as a bit of illusion making a sleight of hand that little bit more convincing, a come-on to a passerby that little bit more convincing, or a bit of levitation to allow a trick to work better than flawlessly.
Skills:Vandegar is exceptionally skilled in sleight-of-hand, pick-pocketing, lockpicking, juggling, knife handling (again, tricks, not combat) and that most cherised of circus skills, parting fools from their money.
Weaknesses: Although granted longevity and agility by the elvish blood he bears, Vandegar has also inherited the frailty and lack of physical strength common to that race (and no doubt made more extreme by the conditions of his childhood).
More debilitating by far, however, is his constant use of Fallow. When not engaged in his art, Vandegar has a tendency to stare for hours at interesting objects, cheerfully begin conversations with complete strangers (or their pets, or furniture) as though he's known them all his life, or follow a particular cat or rat around a city for as much as a day at a time... unless he finds something more interesting. Even seated, Vandegar has a tendency to sway.[/u]
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