Melwine Grapeshank is a cleric of Brandobaris.


Melwine dresses typically for a Hand of Misadventure; studded leather armor, a grey cloak and a jaunty feathered cap. His ancestors were akin to the dwarves, so he is shorter and stockier than the common halfling. He prefers to use a sling in battle, but he also carries a large club, which he employs two handed.


War meant chaos. Chaos meant opportunity. And opportunity meant profit for Melwine. So when he drifted into Westgate, Melwine felt right at home. In truth, wealth didn’t mean that much to him. Don’t misunderstand, he is quite a greedy little halfling and was accustomed to luxury. But, he found the process, the game, of acquisition more exciting than the reward. A small lie in the right ear, a lucky happenstance and a bit of magical intervention brought joy to the heart of Melwine and glory to the Friendly Rapscallion.

It was luck that brought him to Westgate in the first place. A small misunderstanding with a minor official caused him to leave the lovely little hamlet of Drubtrill in a hurry, on foot, at night. The next morning, a trade caravan happened to overtake him. He offered his services as a mystic diviner and healer. And so, he arrived at Westgate in style, on the back of a wagon. Then, he disappeared in the crowd, taking a small portion of the caravan master’s profit with him. Melwine immediately spend a large portion of the gold buying drinks for the patrons of a nearby tavern while he recounted his wild exploits.

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