Mad Ratter is a wiry male goblin with an unusually broad chest and powerful arms, built more like a compact laborer than a nimble scavenger. His dented iron helmet is far too large for him and constantly slips over one ear. He keeps his head tilted upward when speaking to taller creatures, but his attention rarely stays on their faces. Instead, his eyes dart toward pockets, belts, cooking fires, loose stones, and anything that might be edible. He wears mismatched military scraps over patched leather, with a faded soldier's insignia tied around his neck. His hands are stained dark from chewing bark, and he carries a greataxe almost as large as he is with complete, unquestioning confidence.

Mad Ratter is cheerful, literal-minded, and almost impossible to discourage. He assumes every serious conversation is a military briefing, every meal is a morale exercise, and every unfamiliar object is either a weapon or food. He is strangely affectionate toward anyone who treats him patiently, but he has no idea how frightening he looks while trying to be helpful.

Mad Ratter was once assigned to a goblin auxiliary company that expected very little from him, and somehow he still managed to disappoint them. He forgot orders almost immediately, marched in the wrong direction, saluted cooking pots, and once attempted to negotiate with a siege tower because he thought it was a very large officer. His fellow soldiers tolerated him until he ate the bark from a commander's favorite walking staff during a formal inspection. After that, the company kicked him out and told him never to return, a command he has misunderstood as a permanent promotion to independent wandering soldier. Since then, Mad Ratter has roamed from battlefield roads to forest trails, eating tree bark, roots, beetles, old rations, and whatever else does not escape quickly enough. He still believes he is serving an important military mission, although he cannot remember who gave it to him or what it is supposed to accomplish. When threatened, his confusion becomes frightening certainty. He grips his greataxe, roars nonsense about tactical pastries, and charges with the wholehearted fury of someone who has just discovered that the enemy is edible. He has recently begun traveling with adventurers because he assumes they are a highly disorganized unit under his command.