Gravy Glittergold was born in the rolling hills of the Vale inside Brandybrook, a place as peaceful as it was predictable. His mother liked to say he was found “right where the leaves were thickest,” and never quite clarified further. Raised in a warm burrow by parents who remain alive and well, his upbringing was filled with good food, louder company, and the kind of comfort most never think to leave behind. While he’s content with the simple rhythms of Vale life, Gravy has found himself spending more time in music and gatherings than fields and routine. Over time, he and a band of like-minded halflings turned their casual playing into something more consistent, finding an easy rhythm with one another. Their first real break came when they were hired to perform at a human merchant’s wedding, a moment that proved their little band could be more than just a pastime. Since then, Gravy has taken on the role of occasionally traveling beyond the Vale, seeking out opportunities, coin, and stories to bring back to their growing troupe, all while knowing there will always be a place waiting for him beneath the hills.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
Gravy Glittergold pauses just inside the doorway, oblivious to the bit of road dirt being tracked in on the bottom of his big feet, before stepping further into the candlelit shack. Gravy points up at the sign in the shack that says "HELP WANTED: Musician" next to the sign of a pint of ale as he begins to walk in with a quiet, happy hum. Gravy pulls the chair out and climbs into it, settling in with a small swing of his feet.
“Yes'm, ye have been expectin' me,” he says, fiddling in his pocket as he searches for enough coin to place an order. “Me's from Brandybrook, I'm sure ye've heard of it.”
Gravy finds just enough coin to please the hag. She takes it then turns to fill up a human sized pint of ale, then sets it down in front of Gravy. His eyes widen giddily.
"Name's Gravy ma'am. I'm here about your needs for a bard. Looks like ye've been wantin' to get some more patrons round these parts." Gravy takes a swig of the ale. It's foreign from the flavors around the Vale, but it's good and strong, for him at least. "I'm lookin' to make something of me self, but Gravy's not quite too sure yet what looks like." *Gravy hiccups* "All Gravy knows is that me's good at chorin' and cleanin', singin' and dancin'. I've also got a couple o' me pals who're lookin' to help ye' out. Now, let's talk about how much."
After a good bit of talking and negotiating back and forth, Gravy lets out one last good hiccup before the two end up shaking hands. Looks like he's gonna be sticking around this town for a while.
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