Brandobaris
Cleric Alignments: CN, N, NE, NG, LN

Brandobaris: Master of Stealth, the Irrepressible Scamp
(Lesser Halfling Deity)
Symbol: Halfling'f footprint
Home Plane: Green Fields
Alignment: Neutral Portfolio: Stealth, thievery, adventuring, halfling rogues
Worshipers: Adventurers, bards, halflings, risk takers, rogues
Cleric Alignments: CN, N, NE, NG, LN
Domains: Halfling, Luck, Travel, Trickery

Favored Weapon: "Escape" (dagger)

randobaris (bran-doe-bair-iss) is the tall races' misapprehensions of the entire halfling race given divine form. A constantly scheming, meddling, curious, short-attention-spanned rapscallion as interested in the contents of a man's purse as he is in the contents of his character, Brandobaris nonetheless makes few enemies, as his wit, charm, good looks, and ability to work on the fly get him out of trouble in the few adventures that do go wrong. A rumored romantic dalliance with Tymora may be responsible for Brandobaris's legendary luck, which plays a central role in the countless tales of daring-do traded from halfling to halfling like currency at waystations across Faerun. Such tales tell of Brandobaris tricking dragons, escaping from the clutches of devilish hordes with bags full of treasure, and even sneaking into Myrkul's Bone Citadel to rescue the souls of ten thousand slain innocents, leaving in return a vase of flowers and a box of erotically shaped chocolate candies. Predictably, lightfoot halflings adore him.

The church of Misadventure, as Brandobaris's "organized" religion is known, teems with adventuresome troublemakers who usually emerge from some dangerous endeavor better off than when they entered it. Though most halflings (particularly children) love stories of their exploits, most prefer that such events occur as far away from their communities as possible. Many strongheart communities discourage his worship, and the reclusive ghostwise view Brandobaris and his cult as a perversion of the civilized world. Hands of Misadventure, as clerics of Brandobaris are known, engage in difficult, dangerous pursuits such as adventuring, always valuing the story of a given success far more than the physical treasure such a success might bring with it. Though Hands frequently engage in confidence schemes or larceny, they do so for the thrill, with monetary rewards simply garnishing the pleasure that comes from mastering one's (albeit occasionally illegal) craft. The Church of Misadventure has no temples-- in essence, whenever a story is told of Brandobaris's courage, services are in session.

Hands of Misadventure pick one time of day or night to consistently pray for spells (those who prefer public displays of bravado usually choose to pray during the day, with the sneakier, more subtle Hands electing to pray under the light of the moon). The Hands have few formal ceremonies, but on the night of a new moon, followers are expected to hide on or more stolen items from the previous month's take in the best hiding place they can find, a ritual known as Brandobaris's Tithe. As might be expected, multiclassing as rogues is enormously popular among the clergy, and auspicians are not uncommon. They turn rather than rebuke undead.

HISTORY/RELATIONSHIPS: Brandobaris gets on well with most of his pantheon. He especially enjoys the attention of ministrations of his paramour, Tymora, though the terms of their relationship are prehaps best described as casual. His sense of fun and obsession with putting himself in danger earns him respect and companionship from the likes of Garl Glittergold, Baervan Wildwanderer, Erevan Ilesere, and Vergadain. He respects Mask as a fellow miscreant of unsurpassed skill, but the Shadowloard's cruel streak keeps them from true friendship. Brandobaris's exploits have earned him the enmity of Beshaba and Urdlen. He has no love for Abbathor, who he views as in it only for the money. For his part, Abbathor thinks Brandobaris a base cad worthy of little consideration.

DOGMA: Seek excitement and danger wherever your feet take you, for risk-taking leads to life's greatest rewards. Lust for the thrill, not for the treasure, for greed obscures the true prize of the experience. At the end of the day, the halfling with the wildest tale is the most honored in the eyes of the Irrepressible Scamp.