Standing at 5'5" tall and weighing 140 lbs, Poxymoron is fairly small for a human. He has sandy blonde hair and eyes the color of ice. At first glance, he would be considered ordinary looking; if not a little bit creey.
Poxy was born and raised on the docks of Drenchport to Crint Hrawker. His mother wasn't in the picture and Poxy suspected that his father had killed her in one of his murderous rages. His real name is Kell Hrawker but from a young age his father started calling him Poxymoron as a term of 'endearment'. The other dockworkers who had become his surrogate family, started calling him that and the name kind of stuck. It wasn't till he was older did Poxy come to learn what the name actually meant; and why people tended to laugh when they said it.
Now growing up small and motherless on the miserable docks of Drenchport with a name like that, Poxy grew up fast. Fights were frequent and he learned quickly that he was too small to stick it out in the middle of a fight but he was rather adept at skirmishing around the edges of a fight looking for opportunities to land a blow. And in the seedy little port town, there was plenty of opportunity to practice.
One evening in the 'charming' dockside tavern called The Drowned Dwarf he and his friends were settling down to drink off a hard day of working on the docks. The tavern was known for it's abundance of cheap ale and women. As such, it was a favorite stop for visiting sailors looking for some action. That evening, a rough looking crew came into the bar and it wasn't long before a brawl broke out. Poxy had just beat one sailor bloody and grabbed a clay jug and smashed it on the back of the head of another sailor who was busy choking the life out of his friend Gellic. The jug shattered and so did the skull of the sailor. A bar fight was one thing and very tolerable in this salty little town but murder was another thing. Poxy snuck out of the bar and hit the road.
