Jimbo ISFP Retiring, quietly friendly, sensitive, kind, modest about their abili- ties. Shun disagrements. Loyal followers. Often relaxed about getting things done. St 12 Dx 14 Co 18 (+4 hp/level) Wi 17 In 15 Ch 14 Cleric/Fighter Level: 5/6 H.P.: 9 A.C.: 5 (chain mail, +1 ring protection) Jimbo is a cleric/fighter who just can't make up his mind as to what he believes. He is dead set against the forces of Chaos, but furthur than that, he just believes in a higher force, one that grants him spells, that's all he knows. He is good to all, but just isn't sure that he picked the right vocation. He would like to someday have the confidence in his faith to become a palladin, but for now he is content to spend time to find himself. He is a good friend of Clipper, whom he once took on as a project to reform him. Unfortunately, Clipper has taught him far more of his own ways than Jimbo has taught the pickpocket. Clipper has taught him the pleasures of good drink, and Jimbo can often be found at night tipping the bottle in the name of his god, praising Him for His gifts to a lowly friar. Jimbo has a weakness for animals, and has a pet weasel named Sqeaker. He has a lot of druid influence in him and can speak with animals, a skill developed in his early training for the ministry, when he had a lot of time on his hands and access to tomes of the druids of the monastary. He quickly found that he had a knack for it, and can extract information from birds, squirrels, or any other small woodland animals. It is an ability that takes no spell points for him to use, as it is a natural, or wild talent. He is a practical sort of fellow, not one to get too involved in specualation or let his imagination wander too far from the subject at hand. He knows what he feels and draws upon what he has experienced in the past. He likes to understand how things work, but from the standpoint of how they will be useful to him, rather than just for the satisfaction of his imagination. He dwells on things that will make physical changes in the world, and often finds Clipper too adrift in his daydreams, and tries to make him stick to the current subject, while Clipper likes to daydream a lot. They share a close friendship, despite their personality differences. Jimmy sat on a log in the thick forests of Bree whittling on a walking stick, one of his favorite pastimes. "One never knows when one will go a travelling," he justified to himself, peeling off layer after layer of birch. Oof his scrawny halfbreed Yorkie-Doberman (Just the Geometry of the mating left Jimmy cross eyed and confused) sat on the ground, licking himself. Jimmy pulled out his pocket magic tome and leafed through his homework. He was the apprentice to Argus of Galir, a wizard of no small reputation. He had taken Jimmy in out off the streets when he had begged for food one day and had decided to teach him the ways of magic. Jimmy really had no interest in conjuring and the like, but it was a free meal so long as he continued to learn and kept the place tidied up. Argus had passed his prime and was on a downhill slide mentally. He had a habit of forgetting where he put things, including his clothes in the morning. He also seemed to forget that one needs such things before going out in the morning. This caused problems in a stuffy community of puritan-like religious fanatics. "Oh to go climb the Crooked Peak or to cross the Bridge of Anon," he thought to himself. He settled into a state of depressed boredom, pulling out a large piece of jerky to chew on. Just then something zinged past him through the forest. Several more of them howled past and Jimmy took cover behind the mossy log on which he had been sitting. From somewhere furthur in the forest he heard a man running his way, shouting and hollering, flailing through the underbrush. Jimmy scampered into the hollow log, rooting out the family of ground Boogas that called it home. They were small furry koala bear relatives with a major attitude. A horseman approached at high speed, apparently closing on the man. Jimmy peeked out a knot hole to see what was happening. A spry young man ducked and dodged through the underbrush as a horseman bore down on him, firing arrows at him. The man was dressed in all leathers, from his faded green cloak to his tan soft toed boots. He looked to be a thief of some kind, judging from the watermelon that he carried in one hand and a large pouch in the other. Jimmy peeked out of the end of the log and held out his hand, pointing to the horseman. "Ooga-boonga!" he uttered, and a small pea shaped glowing ball appeared before him, hesitated a minute, and then hurtled toward the horseman. Jimmy ducked back into the hollow fallen tree, hoping that he had not been seen. The power pea screamed out, hitting the horse square in the head. The horse stopped instantly, its rider, an imperial soldiar, sailing over its head, landing hard on a hunk of moss covered stone. He lay motionless. The young man glanced back as the man fell, and stopped running, or rather, changed directions, back toward his pursuer. Jimmy crawled out of his hiding place and hollered out a cheery,"Hi ho!" to the stranger, who was already frisking the fallen soldiar, taking his bow, sword, dagger, pouch, trousers, boots, chain mail, hat, pipe, and tobacco. The entire process took no more than a minute. Jimmy arrived as he was taking the armor off. As he did so, the man began to stir a bit. The thief picked up a largish rock and thumped him on the head. He was still again. The rogue threw everything into a pile and sat back to admire it. He was a light framed half-elf with slightly pointed ears and a dark complexion. Apparently he was a half-drow, a mix of man and the dark elves, certainly nothing to love at first sight. He had amber eyes and auburn hair. Beneath his cloak he had pouches of every kind hanging from his belt. To hear him move sounded like a team of mad maracca players. He grinned at Jimmy from ear to ear. "Thanks, dude! What did you zap that horse with anyway? Zowee-Bob I would love to learn to do that." Some friendships take a lot of work. This one was not one of them. Jimmy took a liking to the thief almost immediately. "I'm Geebee," the half-elf said smiling, grabbing Jimmy's hand and shaking it wildly, "Wow! Is this a great day or what?" he exclaimed, plopping down on the ground to examine his booty. Picking up a pouch, he shook it. When it jingled, he grinned a silly grin of which several teeth seemed to be absent. Geebee reached down for a little pouch at his side, snapped his fingers, and it opened. He reached in and pulled out a white worm about three inches long, flicked off some dirt from it, and dropped its squirming form down his gullet. Jimmy felt a bit sick as Geebee rubbed his stomach in pleasure. He looked back over to the guard, now naked on his back, and giggled. "Meethinks that he will have quite a time getting back to Riksguard that way." The rogue then burst out in uncontrollable laughter, rolling on the ground in glee. "He's a bit loopy," Jimmy thought to himself, but he liked the half-elf a lot, and friendship doesn't have to be logical.