Author Note: This is just for my upcoming DnD session with my friends and this is my short character backstory. Please feel free to review anyway! I just hope you enjoy. -Young Bard

The name of Shortbarrel, may seem one of innocence to you and I, but I can tell you for free there is always more than meets the eye to every character, even if they are just a mere Halfling.

The sun blistered down upon the "Shortbarrel Meadery" gardens, just off to the left of the stout wood shack, which acted as a rough base of operation or headquarters for mead production. Chipped windows were unevenly smothered around the log structure, along with a chubby brick chimney poking through the side of a thatch covered roof.

A young Halfling boy was sat making "mud angels" in the grounds just outside of the meadery main entrance doors, as a slightly taller female Halfling towered above him.

"Pillby! Papa, wants you to go un-clog the barrel taps, apparently they were filled with honey somehow!"

The young girl scorned with a maniacally mischievous smirk, through her short brown curled locks.

"You're the worst sister ever Hilda!"

The young boy said with fire in his heart, storming off into the meadery and down to the sticky and stuffy storage room, where the barrels were kept. Pillby only had to glance to notice that his sister had filled every tap with golden honey. Pillby looked to the corner of the room to find his "un-honeying" stick, which he routinely had to use to dislodge gloopy golden mess from the copper barrel taps.

"Hildy! Now you've really done it, stupid!"

Pillby threatened under his breathe through grimacing teeth, as he managed to lodge the de-lodger into the tap.

Wiping droplets of sweat from his brow, Pillby could hear deep footsteps creaking down the storage room stairway into the basement.

"Oh no! Dad is gonna kill me!"

Pillby turned and hid the stick behind his back leaning on the barrel to hide the evidence from anybody, so they can't see what damage he had caused. He then gave a quick gasp as a slender shadow jumped into sight from the silhouette of the dim stairway.

"Mother!"

The little Halfling's heart dropped from his throat at a moments notice, knowing his mother wouldn't take such hard actions against a mere accident.

"Pillby, what are you doing? You know we're having dinner in not too long, and I don't want you reeking of a drunkard when the family arrive"

She sighed with a warning, along with a 'You better go get clean' look in her eye.

"Okay mum, I'll be up soon, I'm almost done. One of the taps came loose is all…"

He said with an innocent twinkle within his eye, trying not to splutter the truth from behind his lies.

As you know Halflings are a homely folk and don't take to kindly to lying, especially to family, Pillby hated to lie to his mother's face; be it a tall tale or a little white lie, he would always cave into her loving face in the end.

As his mother wandered back upstairs, Pillby fiddled with the tap with no remorse attempting to push and shove its way back out of the rusted tap, until forming a crowbar shape and then snapping in two.

"Oh…"

Pillby looked in shock as he listened to the other half of the metal prod 'clunk' at the bottom of the barrel. Now a young boy stood with a broken prod and a bewildered face, he ran and placed the prod behind the barrel where it could not be seen, and then quickly scurried up the stairs and into his room, which he then got changed in.

Voices flooded the halls below not before long, and Pillby knew he would be dead if he didn't make it downstairs and to the dining table before the food was placed; rushing out of his room (not before popping to the loo first) the voices downstairs became more and more distinct, aunties, uncles, cousins. The whole family was surely there to celebrate Pillby's father's birthday.

Pillby had forgotten all about the event because of the previous incidents of the day.

The boy made his way to the hallway, but before he could even reach the doorframe to the feast, a strong knocking could be heard, from the front door.

Now Pillby was always told to never answer the door after dark, but Pillby was in no mood to listen to his mother's rules, when he knew they wouldn't mean anything if his family scorned him to death for appearing late to the table. So the Halfling swung the door wide open, figuring the knocking would just be some more 'larger than life' family members to greet at the feast.

But no…

Three fairly tall masculine, burly figures stood before the tiny boy. He gazed in awe at the three strangers in hooded cloaks each with differentiating colours, scarlet, azure and a dirty shamrock green. Before the lad was given a moment's thought he was smashed to the floor with a strike to the chest, winding and slightly knocking Pillby in and out of consciousness.

Screams echoed through his ears as he lay paralyzed by a blurring shock. His vision barely decipherable. His family, women and children alike lay opposite covered in crimson death. He could only just make out a still image of his mother up against a wall as she was strangled and then thrown into another room with one of the criminals, where they did unthinkable things to her…

Moments later the house fell silent. Pillby could on watch in a daze as his father's withered and now lifeless body fell to the floor in the doorway before him. Pillby knew there was nobody left; only despair, grief and hate, filled his mind as he silently crawled toward the basement, where the storage barrels were held. He had no aim; just only to get out of harms reach so he could cry where he hid.

The smashing of glass and hard wood (which must have been the dining table) could be heard through the boards above. Wine began to spew out through the ceiling and spat on the floor beside the barrel where an injured Pillby lay. The boy looked to his right and saw a nook in between the wall and a large barrel with a rusted tap which was dripping with honey.

"Mum…Dad…H-Hilda"

Pillby could no longer hold in his emotions, he began to bawl his eyes out (and rather loudly at that). There was nothing left for him. Everybody was dead.

The young lad sniffed and attempted to wipe his nose on his collar trying to hold back the 'water works', but was interrupted by a rowdy voice calling out loudly.

"The little one's gone! Find 'im now, you no good pieces of rot!"

Pillby, quickly as his legs would take him, hopped into the gap he had aimed to climb inside, and to his surprise was accompanied by a small black rod, seemingly covered in honey!

"No… I-I can't-t"

He stuttered hysterically, continually wiping his eyes to clear his vision of tears. Footsteps came trotting down the stairs as two voices entered the room.

"Oi, did you 'ear what I did to that lil' missy?"

The thug asked with pride.

"I took her and I shov-"

Silence fell once more. As did a ragged body with a hole in the back of its skull.

A small solemn figure stood in the shadow of a barrel, staring down the other raider (little did the bandit know Pillby's eyes were flowing sadness and splattered with blood)

"What in the heck are y-you!?"

The bandit stood anxiously and unknowingly looking at a raging Halfling running on guilt, who was glaring back at him. Shortly after, Pillby fell back into the shadows sure enough to pop out somewhere else, with the sobbing to increase ever more.

"W-w-what are you! Whats tha' bloody sound!?"

The hooded bandit still stood, but now with gangly legs and falling into a pit of fear. Now tossing and turning where he stood, the bandit looked to the stairs and shouted up to the constant sound of smashing.

"B-b-b-boss! He-l-Help!"

Pillby lunged from the darkness. A pool of blood, faeces, and two cloaks, one green and the other azure.

"What's wrong wit' you blunder 'eads!?"

An enraged voice came from up the stairs, and swiftly down them, calling out for his brothers in the darkness of the room.

a trail of blood flowed freely to a drainage system in the middle of the room, the 'ring leader' followed the trail back to where it started, to find both his accomplices deceased.

"No way"

The slender, scarlet cloaked man stood in astonishment at Pillby's efforts. As he slowly turned around he noticed something, there he was…

A bloodshed boy, covered in crimson alike his family above him, stood weeping uncontrollably. Even this startled the bandit leader.

"Woah, kid… Take this easy lil' man…"

For a split second there was a feeling of indescribable eeriness within the atmosphere surrounding them, then suddenly Pillby spoke up.

"Whats wrong 'Blunder head'?"

A look of honest remorse fled the newly found bandit leader's face, as his still body stood for a moment, until Pillby then pulled a small knife sized blunt metal rod through and from the man's jugular.

He then took a step back and had a minute to realise what he had just committed too.

"It's okay. I'm okay. R-r-right?"

Flooded with emotion, Pillby could not comprehend what had just happened and fell to the floor, as he dropped the rod and slowly faded out…

The Morning After

Before the desolate woods awoke, Pillby was poised and ready to move on to better things and to hopefully disband the foul memories of yesterday; He stood in the open entrance doorway, as if re-thinking something, with a small pack of rations and mead, a clean metal prod, and a stained scarlet cloak, Pillby took his first steps into his new found life…

This is the tale of Pillby Shortbarrel.