Granit Inman

Friendly, simple pub landlord


Age: 30
Race: Saxa
Gender: Lovely pudgy Man
Height: 5’ 9’’
Weight: 220 lbs


Agility d6
Smarts d6
Spirit d6
Strength d6
Vigour d6

Charisma 0
Pace 6
Parry 4
Toughness 5


Fighting (ag) d4
Gambling (sm) d6
Notice (sm) d10
Persuasion (sp) d6
Stealth (ag) d8
Streetwise (sm) d4


Dark Secret – ‘Oh gods please let no one ever find out about what I had to do to support my family’ (MA)
Illiterate – Lived and worked in a pub all his life (mi)


Great Luck


Granit is the only son of Håkan and Judit Inman, landlords of the Gutted Goblin Inn in Hamna. Granit had grown up working in that pub and was well known by its regulars. They lived a meagre and humble existence, the pub making just enough for them to get by and that was deemed more than enough for their family, as long as they had their health, their faithful regulars and eachother.

He was 29 when his mother got sick. ‘Just enough to get by’ was months ago; for reasons unknown their fortunes had taken a turn for the worse and they were barely making enough money to eat. Each had put on a brave face during their struggles, their pride meant they would go without before their patrons while they feared knowledge of their situation might drive customers away.

Håkan blamed himself for Judit’s sickness, convinced the chicken thighs he’d bought that day were rancid and he was too damn miserly to buy better quality elsewhere. “Fill the pot with onions and garlic,” he said, “you’ll soon forget the smell, love.” Consumed with guilt, he left Granit to run the pub by himself while he stayed his wife’s bedside, praying to all the gods that the sickness would pass.

While Granit had lived and worked almost every day of his life in that pub, he simply could not get to grips with the running of such an enterprise. There were just too many things to remember, jobs that needed to be done all the while trying to keep the waning patrons satisfied.

It was on a typically quiet evening that Granit overheard what was being discussed in the corner of the bar. Sveinn ap-Mikkelsson, Rudraigh Croftersen and Tomas Enfors were conspicuous as ever, talking in the theatrically hushed tones of men deep in their cups about the kind of dirty work they were renowned for.

“Shh keep it down,” said Tomas as he glanced over at Granit.

“Ah he’s alright, our Granit,” said Sveinn, “ain’t ya lad?”

“Didn’t hear a thing,” he replied with a knowing smile.

But he did hear. He heard how they were in need of someone to do ‘the job’, someone who wouldn’t be recognised, someone who could get away with it.

“No lad, you don’t want to get involved in this,” said Sveinn. “Trust me, you’re a good man Granit, once you get yourselves in our world there’s no way out.”

“Let the boy make his own choices,” said Rudraigh. “I heard about your mam, Granit. I hope she gets well soon. Times must be tough…If you really are that desperate, we can find ways to fill your purse with a few more Lux. It won’t be pretty, and as Sveinn said once you start mixing in these circles it’ll be difficult for you to return to a normal life.”

Granit looked at his feet before nodding to himself. “What can I do to make it less difficult?”

And so began Granit’s new life in the shadows and back-alleys of Hamna. It was only occasional work, once or twice a month, but it brought in just enough money to get the family’s fortunes back to where they once were in better times. It was often gruesome and bloody, but Granit seemed to be a natural. A combination of a publican’s charm, his smiling eyes and the his relatively unknown status meant none of his victims suspected a knife to come from under his sleeve and into their heart.

He made sure to keep his dealings only with Sveinn and Rudraigh (Tomas left town after that fateful meeting) to insulate himself from the grimey underworld, so when troops began to muster outside the city and the Inn’s fortunes completely and drastically reversed from booming business he was able to say goodbye to the dirty money. What’s more, when his father came downstairs with his recovering wife by his side, five long months after she had fallen ill, he knew that those dark times were truly behind him. His proud father, blooming with relief following Judit’s recovery, recognised the hard work and sacrifice his son had made. The family are making the most of their good fortunes, putting their savings into the Port Bank Of New Asper just in case of a rainy day. But now for the Inman’s of The Gutted Goblin, life has never been better.

Granit Inman

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