Name
Rathew Burg
Occupation
Archiver (former)
Monk
Age
35

Height
3'5"

Gender
Male

Race
Rat

Toyhouse

Rathew slapped on the spare harness from the desk drawer with a cold domineer. He was alone in the office - he didn’t have to put on the tough guy act, but he did it anyway. He rationalized it as a rehearsal, when in truth it was all he could do from breaking down and grabbing Roann’s old bottle of rye and drinking till he passed out. It had been almost five days and the money was drying up before his eyes; catatonics weren’t cheap, but this one was the closest friend he’d ever had. Dyffross be damned, she’s not going out like that, not on his watch. He tightened the straps so they were the least bit uncomfortable. “Keeps you from getting complacent” he heard in Roann’s dry, matter-of-fact tone.

He slipped a glance at the 9 iron and the thought crossed his mind that maybe it would be ok to touch it, moreso take it with him, just this once. He shook his head.
“It's hers you damn fool.”
He holstered the extra 4 chamber they kept in the office instead. Not a moment later Bruto walked through the door, and Rathew’s heart skipped a beat. Quickly he composed himself before exchanging nods with the towering figure and headed out. Bruto had been told about the situation already and it wasn’t like he could say much that would help the poor rat.

The meeting was about to take place at the Harvest Moon pub on the edge of town. It wasn’t so crowded that nobody would notice if he got shanked if the deal went sour, but crowded enough where he could call in a few favors to have a goblin or two stand by in case he needed help. He got there an hour early, and ordered his usual apple cider. It tasted like piss; there was a reason this bar was at the edge of town.

All he could do now was sip and wait.

TRIVIA

-Rathew plays sudoku for fun, he always keeps a small sudoku book on him.

-He finds filing paperwork relaxing.

-He is middle aged for a rat man and if this isn't a mid life crisis idk what is.

-He always caries an extra pair of pants that have been folded into the smallest size possible and then put in a ziplock bag in one of his pockets.