Note: I'm not really one for prose so if you find my writing style irritating then please grab some sort of stress-reliever for the visual consumption of this Character Sheet.

Name: Reginald J. Willywix the First
Age: Twenty and Three-Quarters
Gender: Male
Race: Rat Man
Class: Alchemist
Appearance: First and the foremost notable trait of Reginald's appearance is his likening to that of a mouse or, more accurately, a sewer rat. Though he indeed stands on two legs without some form of amputation, as well as the opposable digits to support the Human hand's structure, he strikes people as a horrendous monster without the aid of a cloak and long-beaked mask. Scientifically, he shares more in common with Men then he does his skittering brethren even with his grey, scruffy fur, uncleaned and crooked teeth as well as his spindly pink-striped tail to accompany it all. Still, his only slightly alien appearance has deemed him a horror, thus his penchant for long, dark and scraggy clothing and his favourite Plague Mask.

Personality: The two best words to describe Reginald during most occasions are 'inane' and 'insane'. Through living in a sewer most of his life he never really learned normal boundaries or social behavior, merely that men with the face of a mouse are not generally acceptable. He will be found muttering to himself numerous incomprehensible mannerisms under his breath at most times or during the few, more active times he will be shouting with glee the most joyous or even darkest of things. The latter is generally accompanied by explosions of many colours.

Typically, he keeps himself grounded and conservative, mostly the level of not being discovered publicly. He remains quiet yet not entirely silent, in the furthest reaches of a crowd and generally distrustful of everyone and anyone around him. His level of trust is mostly extended toward business transactions, those of which he keeps a jagged claw scratching at a bomb or sharp, diseased object in case things go sour. He is capable of allowing friendships, where he would be quite kind through the grit of his teeth, though that has yet to come to fruition. His humour knows no societal or moral bounds and encompasses all occasions, it is shared with little regard of the thoughts of those around him but purely for his own amusement. He is mostly the only one amused.

There are times, however, where in stark contrast to his stealthy and paranoid disposition, Reginald becomes a true raving lunatic. He cares not for the value of others or their possessions, or that of his uninteresting garb and constricting mask. He has made a name for himself in Merida, completely separate from the old street peddler with a mask. The name is the Rat King, the Mad Bomber, the Blighted Grenadier and so on. He doesn't go on mindless murder sprees as tales would suggest, neither would he feed bombs to children and deliver them at your doorstep as they would also suggest. Or at least he hasn't yet. This state mostly extends to a love of shiny things, including explosions, and a spark of a deep sadistic desire generally suppressed by his opposite nature. Injury of others has happened often, but he has a better mind than to murder, such a thing would ruin his business. In fact, the injuries have at one point grew his business to a sort of healing endeavor. The general idea of this behavior though is a loud, violent persona where Reginald releases his repressed tension with a bang.

Brief Backstory: Once, Reginald was but a Human boy. Those who begot him cast him aside when very young, too young to remember his roots. A half-crippled old alchemist came upon him and took him for his own. This alchemist was once one of the researchers of the Mage College of Merida, before being booted for inhumane studies and rumours of satanic practices (Or this world's equivalent). The child was named Number Four-Sixty as this was the man's experiment. Reginald was taken to a poorly constructed laboratory in Merida's sewers to be melded with that of a test rat.

Reginald was raised by the alchemist to follow in his craft. Once physically mature at the age of twelve, he was allowed a more natural name, one which Reginald supplied himself. Due to his physical stature he was quite adept at stealth, allowing him to steal supplies from the Mage College periodically at a young age. To this day, the layout of the complex has been devoted to his memory.

Around four years ago, Reginald's alchemist 'father' passed away due to his advanced age. In order to fund his well-being, Reginald concocted an elixir to sell on the city streets. This brew was marketed as a cure for a vicious disease rolling around the farming districts adjacent to the city. The potion was a placebo of course, an aphrodisiac with some mild hallucinogens to ease the suffering of those with the Shiver Flu. Eventually this made enough money for him to market working products. Some of these were still street-sold elixirs, others were under the table droughts of poison and failed vaccines of Orc Fever. He still has yet to share his bombs with anyone on a professional level, or at least none without the fuses pre-lit.

Equipment: The traditional stealth garb of a long, hooded robe.
Ivory white Plague Mask. Removable tinted goggles for trips to the surface.
A stout, wide-brimmed top hat made of pitch dark leather. Generally worn over a hood.
A knapsack of various bottles, alchemical reagents and small, unrelated knick-knacks.
A strap along his tail near the base for a very small number of emergency items such as bombs, poison or a small cutting knife. The knife is too dull to cause serious injury, it is merely used for cutting and dividing reagents as well as picking Reginald's teeth.
"A BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIG needle," is how Reginald generally describes his alchemic injector to his clients. Stored in the knapsack.

Abilities: Obviously, Reginald's premier ability lies in his profession, Alchemy. It is a craft refined to a point where he can identify reagents in their natural placement and quickly put together a working piece of equipment. The main issue he has with this is the magic side of the equation, where he will tire quickly from rapid crafting. This also causes his more unstable tools to occasionally react in a way beyond his control. While bombs, fire and general destructive means are indeed his favourite tools to craft, Reginald has issue keeping them in order, causing them to misfire, spontaneously defuse or combust or, on the most rare of occasions, metamorphose into random harmless objects. Reginald is still quite unsure what kind of mischievous spirit causes the latter.

Out of necessity, he learned how to be stealthy. In this, he is self-taught, therefore he is not quite a master at the art. Sometimes his tools make noises or even emit light which exposes him entirely. Disguise has been the most reliable means of stealth, which has been useful with his training in Alchemy. Alchemy has allowed him to make mock magic cloaks and very minor charm potions which greatly aid his slightly clumsy ability to sneak.

Useful byproducts of his occupation have included a sleight of hand, useful for poking around the cacophony of materials in his knapsack, as well as giving a nice little jab or shiv to a crook so he might flee. While he might be incredibly weak physically, he has also developed an impressive toss, allowing him to jettison forward some very nasty things very effectively. The final circumstantial skill is his nose, as his rodent olfactory sense is incredibly powerful. This has found few uses for anything other than locating useful salts, herbs, molds and other such materials.