Details: Human, male, 50s
Fletch is a 5’2” man with filthy dark rags for clothing and a shovel on his back. The shovel is used for digging graves around the Tavern’s as he is a “professional” sexton. He has a grotty beard with all manner of creatures living within, and greasy locks under his yet greasier cowl. Fletch has a terrible lack of teeth, resulting in his speech being difficult to understand due to the abundance of “sss’” in his vocabulary.
Personality (traits, flaws, ideals, bonds)
Fletch is known to be an upstanding citizen when it comes to the burial rites of those whose graves he digs. For but a copper piece he will promise “not to piss on ye when yer dead”. That being said, when Fletch strikes a contract he is under the belief that it is Law that he stay to the deal, meaning his loyalty can be bought. The Gravedigger has a keen interest in all things macabre and will happily be found recounting tales of the horrors he has seen in the dead of night.
As a young boy Fletch was orphaned, or so he says. In truth, Fletch had gotten it into his mind that he would dig down to the other side of the Earth. It wasn’t long before he had a complex series of tunnels running throughout the village, and it wasn’t until he had dug for a week that he realised he didn’t want to go back. For most of his young life, Fletch dug tunnels through the Earth until he popped up in a graveyard one evening and began to dig for a profession.
Fletch is the only child of two parents whose names he has forgotten. They live far off in a distant village, not knowing where their son is, or indeed if he is still alive.
Fletch acquired these boots from a dead soldier who had a heart-attack in the tavern. They allow him to walk quietly no matter the pace at which he shambles.
A mage once imbibed Fletch’s gloves to have the spell Grease permanently cast upon them. This allows him to slick back his hair and not to blister his fingers when he’s digging graves during the night.
Fletch’s Shovel allows him to commune with the spirits of the dead whenever there is a full moon.
Fletch carries a small tribal fetish on him which looks like a crucifix. Cold to the touch, it appears to have no magical resonance, but he keeps it close at all times.
Fletch keeps his dire beetle, Gregor, in his room at all times. Gregor was found in one of Fletch’s childhood tunnels and has remained his close companion ever since. The size of a man’s fist, Gregor has vice-like pincers and a tough black carapace to protect himself with. The beetle’s disposition is one of mildly contained rage, and Fletch is the only man who seems to be able to control him.
Fletch’s room at the Gilded Galgatron is very messy but looks rather unlived in. He spends very little time here but it’s where he leaves Gregor. The bed has been converted into some kind of climbing apparatus leading up to the attic that Fletch is very twitchy about when questioned on the topic.