Name: Conrad Traption (named after his world famous uncle)
Nickname: “Grandpa’ Dead” or “Gramps” (By normal standards he should be dead by now. Being alive “proves” that he has some personal relationship with the Grim Reaper, and by his looks he is probably the Reaper’s grandfather.)
Age: Em… 70, 80, 100… 200? Really hard to tell.
Species: Human according to him, but gnome, kobold or goblin shouldn’t be ruled out either. Anyway he is a strange freak of nature.
* Booze. But not some fancy mouthwash; it should have a kick like a mule, and should work as disinfectant and brass-polish as well.
* Girls. They should be young, cute and well endowed. No, he is too old for that, but they are soft, smell nice and look cute.
* To tinker. Give him some brass, a workbench and a task, and he will entertain himself for days.
* People with lack of imagination. “A hook? A hook?!! After all the things I showed you, you want me to attach a slightly bent and pointy piece of iron to your stump of arm? That’s it?!! Listen up kiddo, for jobs like this I don’t even get out of bed. So make it at least grappling hook with twenty feet of rope, or I’ll attach a hook on you where the sun doesn’t shine!”
* Fancy wines, especially the sweet once.
* Feminine men.
Gramps is a little OLD man. He is about 4 feet high, with a head way to big for his body. His skin is wrinkled beyond imagination and has a yellowish-brownish tint, very much like brass. His large head is completely bald, and wrinkled like dried-out apple. He has quite a big cranium. His face in proportion to the rest of his skull is small. His healthy left eye is dark little bead hiding among the many wrinkles hanging from his brows and eyelids. His mouth is wide, with the corners slightly turned upward giving him a constant grin. His long gone teeth are replaced by steel and brass. He can unscrew them to clean and keeps them shiny and polished all the time. His nose is just a small bony triangle above his mouth, almost unnoticeable.
Gramps sustained some serious damage from one of his early experiments. He lost his right arm, eye and ear in the process. The right part of his face is littered with red scars remaining from burns. The right side of his head is covered by a shiny brass plate, bolted to his skull. It has a twisted funnel sticking out where his ear should be. The plate contains a large artificial eye, replacing his lost one. It is a marvelous work of clockwork technology. There is a mechanical iris in front of the big dark outer lens, and it moves in and out like a spy-glass. Another big brass plate is covering his chest and back where his artificial arm is attached. The whole contraption is made of polished brass, containing so many gears and cogs that you easily get dizzy just by looking at it. The arm has a three finger-claw to grab things, and a number of various tools he may need. It has various sizes of knifes, scalpels, saws, hammer, pincers, screwdrivers, pincers, can-opener, mug-holder, small metal bit to clean your nails, file, a whistle, back scratcher, butterfly net, a fishing rod… and even a hook; just like a Swiss army knife. On the plating of his brass the following text is engraved “Not Yet Ded”.
On his feet he is wearing steel-capped boots with holes cut into the sides, so they don’t get too warm, and the occasional water can flow out. He is wearing an old, greasy, tattered brownish pair of pants, and grey-yellowish white beater. He has a tool-belt wrapped around his waist. He is constantly wearing an orange life-jacket now quite fade by the sun.
Blood Type: AB+
According to him he was born on the island of Rapscord into a family of world famous inventors and tinkerers. He was named after his uncle who was, according to Gramps, the greatest inventor of all time. He signed all his invention as “Con. Traption”, and this is the source of the word ‘contraption’ (according to Gramps).
According to Gramps he used to be a big handsome guy, a real ladies man. Women supposed to have been enthralled by his intellect. “Back in the days women knew the real value of a man…” He is supposed to been married four times. He loved all of them with all his heart… at the beginning, and outlived all four of them… those bloody harpies.
He used to be a skilled gunsmith, and was working something what would “…make gunpowder only worth using in firework and party-crackers. Anyway, I my work was about to revolutionize the art of blowing up sh.t. It had a punch of a 36-pounder but could fit into a ladies purse. Of course no self-respecting man would wave such a small piece, so I made it bigger… What? O, hell no. It would’ve worked! The problem was that I poured some plum-jam on my notes and a smeared 8 looked like a 0 and well…”
In the explosion he was severely wounded (lost his right arm, eye, ear) and his shop was scattered around half of the city. After that he swore not to make another gun again (people probably wouldn’t have bought it anyway) and specialized himself in “stylish and useful reconstruction”, making artificial body-parts.
His shop on Rapscord was popular among pirates, who wanted they hand replaced by switchblades and crossbows instead of a simple hook. Gramps liked the stories of his costumers, and the adventurous and drinking-heavy lifestyle was quite appealing for him. So he packed his shop together, and decided to be a pirate himself. He traveled from island to island, buying passage with his skills from different crews, but he wasn’t really part of any. Till now…
He doesn’t have any ‘weapons’, but his brass right arm, has plenty of sharp, pointy and stabby bits he can use as a weapon.
He looks like a fragile old man, but can take an insane amount of punishment. He doesn’t heal faster than a normal person, but can survive fatal amount of injuries, blood loss, burns etc. He would be on the sickbed for weeks or months, but he would still live.
The same goes for his stomach; he can eat almost anything, no matter how old, rotten or stale. He wouldn’t get sick; he seems to be resistant to a lot of poisons as well, including alcohol. When he drinks he quickly gets into the jolly mood where he laughs a lot and dances on the table (oh Lord, the horror) but he sort of gets stuck there. No matter how much he drinks afterward he won’t get more intoxicated, nor pass out. He can drink anyone under the table, any time.
With that much brass in his body, he swims like an anchor… and he really never learned how to.
If we take away his strange looks, his age, his drinking, his rude, loud, lecherous behavior, his mood-swings, he really is just an ordinary guy.
He has a mechanical wind-up parrot attached to his right shoulder. It can play various melodies like a music box. The melody depends on the exchangeable cylinder in use.
Surgeon, doctor’s assistant.