Jimmy Squarefoot

Jimmy Squarefoot

NO. ENCOUNTERED: 1
SIZE: Medium (6' tall)
HIT DICE: 5d8
MOVE:  12'
ARMOR CLASS: 14
NO. of ATTACKS: 2
DAMAGE:  Tusks 1d12, Fists 1d6, special
SPECIAL: War Cry, Healing Circle
SAVES:  Physical

INTELLIGENCE: ???
ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good
TYPE:  Humanoid
ORGANIZATION: Solitary (rare)
ACTIVITY CYCLE: Any
EXPERIENCE:  650

One night long ago, when I was still young, fresh from the Bardic Guild's warm halls in fact and still quite new to Gray Realm, I found myself camping alone in some dark, lonely southern quarter. My little fire was on its last legs but I fed it more twigs and logs anyway, waiting for its last embers to go dark before I would finally retire. I heard little more than the snap of a twig and the hint of a grunt before I finally looked across the flame, and noticed a guest staring back at me: He squatted atop a small stump as his long arms dangled by his sides, his hands laying on the grass next to his rectangular, linen-wrapped feet. Great puffs of steam sneaked out of his gaping snout, and he studied me, almost timidly, with his porcine eyes. The fire glimmered off his mighty tusks, and he appeared quite frightening. I wasn't sure what to make of my companion, and after a span of silent staring, I slowly picked up my lute and began to play. I sang a low song of far off homes and waiting loved ones. He raised his ears and stooped closer, enraptured by the tune. Then I sang a hearty song, a song of mead halls and good company. He grunted and squealed with delight, and clumsily clapped his hands in time. I became mighty endeared to the strange fellow, and offered him a spare pipe, but his lips had trouble holding it and the tobacco made him sneeze. My little fire finally puffed its last, and with a grunt my guest stood and stumbled away...
I haven't seen the old fellow since, but I have devoted a great deal of study to him. He is called Jimmy Squarefoot in the land he comes from: a small island nation up north, near Camelot. Some tales say he was the unwilling servant of a giant, others that he was once a man and his current appearance is a punishment for misdeeds. Whatever the case, most tales agree he is a kind beast, who merely wanders about for reasons known only to himself. I know not why he came to Gray Realm, but I certainly hope to see him again someday, when I'm alone in a dark southern quarter...

Combat:
Jimmy is mostly a peaceful creature, but should he chance upon a sincere adventurer in need he will often lend aid as best he can. Because of his roving nature, the  start of every combat encounter in Gray Realm will require a percent dice to be rolled, with a roll of 5% or lower meaning Jimmy arrives and offers aid. This also stands during encounters in Avalon, but not Camelot, Asgard, or other lands. Jimmy will either attack with his tusks (1d12) or his fists (1d6), and will sometimes use a War Cry: a loud bellow that causes enemies of 1d6 Hit Dice or lower to flee in fear, and bolsters his allies, granting them +2 to Ac and +2 to damage for 1d6+1 rounds. If victorious, or if generally pleased with himself or the actions of another, Jimmy may start to grunt a victory chant of sorts and perform a clumsy jig, which mysteriously creates a Healing Circle: a 2o ft radius ring that heals all living things (foes and allies alike) for 2d8 health points. Though kind and benevolent, Jimmy can still be somewhat cowardly, and if he takes enough damage he may flee from battle.

Habit/Society:

Jimmy is somewhat of a mystery, even to Bards and Historians of great knowledge and repute. It would seem he is the only one of his kind, and whether or not there are or ever were any others, who can say? I fear all I can tell you is what I have found from what little personal experience I have had with the lonely fellow: he is truly an innocent being, like unto a child, and though he calls none master, he is quick to lend his aid, freely and without begrudging. I suppose I'll never know why he came to Grey Realm at all. Mayhaps he wished to escape the War of the Pendragons, or maybe he simply longed for wide open plains and long roads, the likes of which he could not find at home. If ever I lay eyes upon him again I shall have to invite him in and ask him.