Pip is a waifish halfling with unruly, mousy brown hair and wide, amber eyes that always seem to be looking for an exit. They wear a set of dark, stained leather armor over a simple linen tunic that has seen better days. Their lute is battered, featuring several scratches and a notable crack that has been poorly sealed with pine resin.

Pip is perpetually anxious and prone to stammering, yet they possess a desperate need to be liked. They use humor and music as a shield, hoping that a catchy tune will distract others from their obvious lack of physical or social grace.

Pip spent their youth in the soot stained alleyways of the docks, serving as a lookout and a distraction for the Black Rose syndicate. While the other orphans practiced their lockpicking, Pip found that a well timed, off key song could keep a city watchman confused long enough for a burglary to succeed. They were never the best thief, often tripping over their own feet or dropping the very gold they tried to lift, but their ability to spin a believable lie saved them more than once. Eventually, Pip realized that their life of petty crime was leading only to a cold cell or a short walk to the gallows. They stole a lute from a traveling troupe and fled the city, hoping to find a new path as a performer. Unfortunately, old habits die hard, and they still find themselves checking for pockets to pick whenever a crowd gathers to hear them play. Despite their mediocre talent, they possess a strange, frantic energy that sometimes manages to inspire those around them.