The name: «We were called like that because our family builds such big houses under the hills.»

Personality traits: thinks he is very important. He is in fact quite naive.

Major dislike: butter in the jam jar.

Interests: music and dance.

Goal in life: make my parents proud of me.

Alignment: (lawful good): friendly, courteous, honorable, trustworthy, helpful, loyal, punctual, aware of other people's feelings, respectful of "life, love and the pursuit of happiness".

Priorities: I once read an article in which the roleplaying of the alignment system was made easier by defining priorities for one's character. I chose the following list for Bobo (in decreasing priority):

deity, sovereign, comrades, homeland, family, race, self.


Family: (see the family tree at the bottom of this page)

Prisca: has her own cloth-store; married to Olo Brimple, sensitive/sentimental
Neddy: died in an accident; energetic, joy of life
Malvo and Anso: adventurers in spite of themselves, Malvo is short-sighted, Anso is the serious one
Myrtle: apprentice of a historian; sensible/intelligent, has a relation with a nice gentlehobbit
Bobo: adventurer, good, strong will
Rufus: lives at home, strong fantasy


Religion:

Holy symbol: three-armed candlestick:

  1. Estė (green): the male
  2. Elė (blue): the female
  3. Ninto (red): the genderless or inanimate
After my parents got married, they settled in Tranton, a small village with about a thousand inhabitants (nearly all hobbits) in the Clovershire.

I have never known my eldest brother Neddy: he died at the age of seven when he ran after a ball onto the road, where a group of riders came galloping through.
According to my parents, Neddy was an energetic person, enjoying life very much.

Tranton is visited regularly by adventurers passing through. It lies next to the main road. One evening, when I was only 24 years old, a man, a human, knocked in panic on the door of our house. He was wounded, his clothes were torn, but he wanted us not to ask questions or be too worried about him. He just needed a place to sleep, and the next day, he would be gone. We asked no questions. I could not sleep very well that night, I thought I heard unknown sounds and the moon was shining through the round window of my bedroom.

The next morning, when we woke up, we discovered that our guest had already gone. He left the front door open and there were hairs on the doorstep. I can remember how my mother complained about the mess he left behind.

Soon afterwards, however, we heard that Dora, our neighbours' daughter, had been killed and her body had been mutilated in a most gruesome way. The wise men of the village were called together and concluded that the man, who had spent the night in our house, must have been a werewolf of some sort. Our family had been most lucky.

This whole incident, however, stirred my curiosity. It was not long after this that I decided to take on adventuring. I joined a group of nice fellows, who had been looking for a good priest (which I was), to go on a journey with them.


During the campaign, it was the year 2546, which makes Bobo 29 years old. At least, that was in my reckoning, for I don't think our DM had an official timescale.