Height: 4'0 Weight: 80 lbs Age: 12 years
Languages: Common, Abyssal, Elven
Base Attack Bonus: +0
Fort: -1 =0(Expert)-1(Con)
Armor Class: 15 =10(Base)+4(Dex)+1(Size)
Strength 6 (10-4)
Feats: None! Feels weird...
Equipment: Clothes, small sharp rock
Traits: “I’m boooooooooooooooooored!”: Your parents don’t require you to do chores.
Tiefling Racial Features: Bluff and Stealth are class skills for you. You get a -1 to diplomacy and have darkvision 30’
Jerrie's got very little in the way of physical fiendish heritage. Silver eyes and matching teeth unnerve people the rare times he smiles, glinting strangely in the light-even when there isn't any. His innate grasp of the Abyssal language is a pretty big hint too.
Jerrie's quite when he can be, and has a weird sense of right and wrong. Why can only the grown ups punish people when they do something wrong? That's not fair, and he knows it.
If he feels he can trust someone though, they've gained a loyal(and sometimes very vocal) friend.
Friends, Family, and General Background:
The Yrrum family decided to leave Isarn a few months after Jerrie was born and it was becoming obvious he wasn't human. Human teeth don't look like silver after all, and their first word isn't usually დედა either.
Hoping the people of the village would be a bit more understanding, the family moved there. Jerrie's father became a logger fairly easy, and his mother helps out at the general store now that he can look after himself.
Of course, since he hasn't been given any chores and the 'Dventurer's Gild can take up so much of his time, Jerrie's been going around town and watching people. Some of them do things that are bad and wrong, but they never got punished. He tried to tell his parents, but he just thought he was making up terrible stories because he was bored. That was when Jerrie decided he would punish the bad people of this town in whatever way he could. How hard could it be?
Of course, his brand of justice has him labled as a no-good trouble-maker now, and it doesn't help that he doesn't explain just why he does what he does, not even to his fellow Gild members.
When he isn't punishing people, Jerrie likes to go climb trees the loggers have left standing. It's nice up there, listening to the wind going through the leaves and forgetting everything else for a little while.
Ignore this spoiler:
Of all the things the Yrrum clan believes, always being able to trust one another is one of the most important ones. When you are part of a traveling caravan that goes through dangerous regions, it has to be! “Our trust is like a strong chain that keeps us together against the world” is their famous motto. No one can remember ever having to worry about a Yrrum halfling keeping their promise, because no one can remember every being lied to or betrayed.
No one, that is, except Jerrie. He can remember it quite clearly, since it is all he has to think about as he bleeds to death.
He'd been hunting with his best friend, Reed, and had chased a deer into a cave. The thought of roasted deer urged them on, even when the faint stench of death and decay should have warned them off. Hearing the ragged breathing of their prey, Reed and Jerrie rushed in after it.
They never saw the pit that the deer had jumped over it, having seen it much easier in the faint moonlight. They did yell as they fell into the deep pit though, and the each groaned as they woke up with throbbing heads and aching bodies. They both found the tunnel and hoped it would be an easier way to freedom than climbing the sides of a sleek pit. But when a grotesque creature leaped from the shadows and attacked, Reed shoved Jerrie toward it and ran back they way they had came.
Pinned tot he ground and fearing for his own life, Jerrie couldn't call out to Reed when he saw another creature slip from the shadows and give chase. He attacked the creature blindly with fist and hunting knife, matching it's claws wound for wound. He struck a mortal blow he thought, when he slashed open it's throat, but Fate was working against him, for the creature's blood burned like acid and it struck a blow of it's own. Opening it's mouth to scream in pain, a spike like appendage shot out and pierced Jerrie's heart. That attack was it's last, and Jerrie was barely able to push the creature off him, even though doing so pushed more blood out of his body.
Now, laying in the thin layer of water the covered the floor, Jerrie felt cold creeping into him and making his body it's home. He heard one last, death scream and wondered if it was his friend who had thrown him to the beast or the second beast itself screaming.
Then he succumbed to the cold invading him and died, alone and betrayed.
For a Yrrum, that is the worst death possible.
Jerrie believes his is dead, but can still moves among the living because he needs to tell his clan about Reed's betrayal so it can be recorded and Reed punished(if he's still alive).
Jerrie's appearance does not help disprove the idea he is dead. Pale skin, black eyes, tall for a halfling but spindly, and he just doesn't have the same speed or agility he had in 'life'.