Mort

Mortefactus J. Hume-Rothery (a.k.a. Mort)

Mortefactus J. Hume-Rothery was quite literally born into the life of a wanderer. Despite possessing no obvious skill at arms, no magical inclination, and not the slightest hope of calling upon a religious miracle, Mort (as he known by his friends) spent a lifetime adventuring on dozens of worlds. When the time came, he finally settled down as the keeper of Smith's Bar .
As Smith's lacks the self-awareness and intelligence possessed by the Worlds' End Inn, it requires someone to manage its daily affairs. Mort serves this role well, as he has been there, done that, and made it back. This gives him a certain tolerance for the variety of individuals who come through the doors.

Physical Description

General Physical Condition

A rather average-looking middle-aged human male. No one seeing him would look twice. He still has the build of an adventurer and his skin has the dark tan of a lifetime in the sun, even after the years of working at Smith's.

Facial Features

In addition to his beard, Mortefactus sports a magnificent pair of bushy white eyebrows.

Identifying Characteristics

He possesses an assortment of scars from a large variety of sources. None of these are disfiguring.

Apparel & Accessories

In his many travels across countless worlds, Mort has had plenty of opportunity to try different modes of dress. For reasons that he won't explain, he's settled upon blue jeans and Hawaiian shirts as his standard wardrobe.

Mental characteristics

Personal history

Mortefactus's early years were spent traveling with his father who was a low-ranking priest of a not-particularly-impressive god. While possessed of a commanding voice and a fearsome visage, his father had the misfortune of trying to convert people to the worship of the god of beasts of burden. This was a lonely and discouraging quest and it embittered the old man.
From a very early age, Mortefactus would work the crowd with a basket collecting alms, which never amounted to much more than enough to keep the two of them alive. While the old priest was not particularly successful in his efforts to convert the unwashed, he was quite eloquent and well-read, and his son developed a massive and colorful vocabulary and was literate in a surprising array of languages, both modern and archaic.
This life of wandering exposed the boy to many cultures and the hardscrabble existence built up a inherent toughness in the boy, particularly when the adherents of other religions would chase the pair out of town.
The two would probably have continued like this for many years, with Mortefactus eventually taking the role of preacher himself, had not fate taken a hand in matters. On one particularly fine day, Mortefactus's father took his place upon a barrel and began to harangue the crowd with his message of suffering and freedom. Little did he know that the menial laborers of that community had undertaken a strike for better wages and working conditions.
As the preacher spoke of back-breaking loads born in the heat, a crowd began to gather. Having missed the opening remarks about the god for whom the priest was proselytizing, they heard his words and presumed that it was they he was referring to when he spoke of those forced to carry the goods of others for little more than a sip of water and a handful of grain. Enrapt in the sheer eloquence of his words and the nuance with which he described their plight, they saw in him a mighty leader who could carry their message to the halls of the lords and demand redress of their complaints. At the same time, he, seeing the size of the crowd and feeling the frantic energy it was generating, found himself excited to new heights of rhetoric, waxing poetically and calling upon the great philosophers of the past.
The speech had reached its climax and the crowd had begun to stomp their feet in a frenzied rhythm. As the very ground shook with their passion, Mortefactus watched as his father raised his face and hands to the sky and bellowed, "And if every word that I have spoken be not the truth, may I be struck dead!"
No sooner had the sentence been uttered when the shaking of the ground caused the balcony beneath which he stood to break off and fall three floors, crushing him into the dirt. The crowd instantly grew silent, looked around at each other in confusion, and then returned to work as clearly the divine itself had intervened against their cause.
When the plaza was deserted, Mortefactus walked over to pile of rubble and observed the thin stream of blood leaking from beneath. He sighed and shrugged, then picked up the pack containing his meagre possessions and started to walk away. A older gentlemen wearing robes stopped him at the edge of the plaza.
"Was that your father?" The boy nodded. "Do you have any home to return to?"
"No, sir."
The man stroked his chin for a moment. "We could use another house boy around the college. You're quiet and appear to be trainable. There are two meals a day and a bed indoors, if you're interested."
The boy nodded. "A suneta fanaco sil thenda muh fonoco."
The man's jaw dropped open. "What did you say?"
"It's an old Moralian saying. It means, 'Use what life brings to handle what life takes.'"
The old man stared at Mortefactus. "I know that. How did you know that?"
"I read it in a book."
"You can read ancient Moralian?" The boy nodded once again. "My, my. Perhaps you won't be spending your time sweeping the floors after all."

Sexuality

While some of his former traveling companions can (and will) tell stories about his past, Mort doesn't discuss the topic himself. Occasionally a comment will cause him to make a wry smile and he has been known to observe women in the bar with an experienced eye.

Education

Mortefactus spent a decade of his life as a scholar-in-residence at the University of High Sedaris, the finest educational institution in the world. His gift for language of all kinds made him an expert on a number of historical cultures. His translations of many texts remain the standard version to this day and he achieved the title of professor at an age when most were just beginning their studies at the school.
Of course, academic politics being what they are, Mortefactus found himself embroiled in a long-standing dispute between two factions headed by eminent scholars. After many hushed hallway conversations and whispered entreaties in the faculty tea room, the issue rose to a head at symposium on the subject.
Both sides made their cases with brilliant oration, beautifully drawn diagrams, and massive tomes of references. There was a break in the proceedings for sandwiches and light beverages and all of the conversation was about the final presentation of the day, when Mortefactus would throw his weight behind one side or the other, cementing the issue permanently.
When Mortefactus did speak, he did so with brevity and clarity, making three statements: first, that both sides were not merely wrong, but instead were transcendently so; second, that the correct answer had been staring them in the face for years; and third, that the matter wasn't of the slightest import.
This summation was all that it took to unite the two warring factions. Alas, it united them against Mortefactus. It took two years of innuendo, backstabbing, and anonymous complaints to drive him out of the university and out into the cold hard world.

Employment

After leaving the University of High Sedaris, Mortefactus turned his efforts to restoring his position. His approach to this was unconventional in the extreme by the standards of the academics of his university: he went out into the world and started to explore on his own.
These explorations became rather more interesting as he joined a succession of parties adventuring for gold and glory. Mort, as he became known by his companions, proved to be of use, not because of great martial or magical skill, but because his extensive knowledge of history and language often led to discovering valuable troves. He was also able to decipher complex puzzles, read ancient inscriptions, and devise cunning bits of apparatus. His talent for oratory, which he had learned at the foot of his father, served him and his companions well as they negotiated with merchants, the nobility, and other leeches upon the purse.
As his share of the rewards recovered on these adventures, Mort took only enough money to pay his expenses, but claimed first rights to any unusual artifacts, which would be shipped back to the university for study and display. Eventually, as these treasures accumulated and the demagogues who drove him away retired or expired, the university restored his position and appointed him as Dean of the College of Antiquities.
Tragically, as he was returning to High Sedaris to take the position, Mortefactus had one last encounter and it went rather poorly. In the midst of recovering the Lost Scepter of the Holian Empire, a trans-dimensional hole in space-time was opened and he found himself hurled through and onto another world.
With his ability for language, it wasn't long before he was continuing his adventures on this new world. Soon after completing one particularly arduous recovery, he found himself wandering a city at night, only to discover a door with the glowing sign, "Worlds' End Inn". It opened and he found himself in the Inn.
Since he couldn't give the Door Guardians the correct exit for his own world, he spent many years traveling with those he met at the End of the World. Eventually, even he grew tired of the constant battering and when he was offered the opportunity, he settled down permanently and became barkeeper of Smith's Bar, a role that perfectly fits his experience and personality.

Accomplishments & Achievements

If the night is quiet, you just might get him to tell some of his stories.

Failures & Embarrassments

There is the incident with the basilisk, the bedroom window, and the rope; but good luck in trying to get him to tell that story.

Intellectual Characteristics

Mortefactus possesses an almost perfect memory for matters of history, in particular dates and names. He also has an almost unnatural gift for language.
Many come to the inn bearing documents or maps in order to ask his opinion and advice on a matter.

Morality & Philosophy

Mort will neither harm an innocent nor take something from its rightful owner. The interpretation and implementation of this code of conduct does occasionally display a measure of flexibility.

Social

Religious Views

Despite or perhaps because of what happened to his father, the many incidents of divine intervention in his years of adventuring, and the fact that he meets deities of one sort or another on a regular basis in Smith's, Mort is a devout non-believer.

Wealth & Financial state

Although he never acquired wealth for its own sake, those who have adventured with him say that he has cached fortunes on many worlds that would make a king gawk. Those who only know him from Smith's say that he certainly shows no sign of it.

Current Location

Smith's Bar

Species

Epotimical

Circumstances of Birth

Mortefactus was born on a world trapped in a dark age of feudalism, religious oppression, and magical conflict. His mother died while giving birth to him, leaving him the only child of an itinerant street preacher.

Gender

Male

Eyes

Steel grey

Hair

Bald on the top of his head, but possessing a closely-trimmed white beard.

Height

5' 11