This fully grown yellow-footed rock wallaby is typical of the breed, just hitting two feet when standing, with dull brown-grey fur and white running from his neck down along his belly and under his tail. His fore and hindlegs have yellow fur, although the grey bleeds back in at various select spots.
He wears a thick and very tattered cloak, looking to be a vagabond of some kind, and bandolier filled with sharp throwing knives, as well as a quiver on his hip filled with bolts for a very lightweight looking crossbow, it seems amazing it could be used without it breaking.
Deviant by nature and defintly of the chaotic neutral alignment, this little wallaby goes where ever he pleases on never ending adventure and escepades. He's not a bad person per-say, just misguided, with little respect for concepts like 'law' and the like.
He has a slight issue with being mis-identified as various other creatures, due to his scarcity. Many have felt the brunt of his anger on their shins upon calling him a kangaroo, among other things.
Pyromancy: The art of using the soul to kindle an inner fire, and to harness that fire in various ways. The wallaby has a varied use of this natural magic, although limited talent.
Born to the third generation of a preservation fort, his sizeable family was one of many efforts to bring his kind back from an over-culling prior to widespread accetance of non-human sentience. With a reptutation of being devients Rocky found himself feeling humiliated from birth by his kind and quietly slipped away to stake his own claim in the world, vowing to make his own name.
His efforts lead him to little success and the small creature found himself turned into a thief by need and greed, stealing from tombs and scavenging from bandit raids.