In the small halfing village of Norbit (well it looked big to him) Snufkin came to be. He was a happy kid and was growing up a normal life. In his early tweens however his village was burned and pillaged by some evil horde. So, he ended up living amongst the "big folk". He wished to make a difference and help punish evil that strode the plain, but alas, his punches, like his punch lines, fell short. Knowing he couldn't be a weapon master nor a jester, he began to sing and hum and meld words, often to himself. A passing minstrel heard his singing and started to teach Snufkin how to use his voice in ways Snufkin didn't think possible. Soon Snufkin realized that song might be mightier than the sword, and perhaps he was the one who could prove it. He packed his things to search for a deeper understanding of the power of song, the mystery of word, and the magic of music.
Description:
He seems shortish and smallish for a halfling. He seems to have no trouble breaking fast, though despite his bulk in his midsection, he looks fit as a fiddle bouncing about as a stone dropped on taut leather over the drum. From the lines about his face, it is clear he laughs hard and often. But, there seems a far off sadness in his eyes. He smells like honeysuckle.
[reply to Ergorion]