Guido

The world is in a period of decline following the fall of a great civilization. Their technology still works, but no one understands its principles. Humans, dwarves, halflings, and gnomes huddle in city-states surrounded by wild lands. Their primary value is the legacy of their ancestors. Science and magic exist at medieval levels, but with traces of inexplicable mechanisms from the past. Dunmar is the region's largest trading hub, standing at the crossroads of river routes and the ancient highways of past generations. The city is divided into two unequal, almost inseparable parts: Upper Dunmar (Human Reach): Wide cobbles, markets, guild houses, the Council seat. It bustles with life, smelling of spices and money. The Fortress (Industrial Sector): An enclave of the Lesser Folk. A vast district carved into the rocky massif on the outskirts of Dunmar. Some streets are open to the sky, but most houses, workshops, and forges are tiered deep underground. Hammers pound and coal smokes here 24/7. It's impossible for outsiders to enter without a sponsor—the guards at the gates will simply pretend not to notice. Dungeon: The Shifting Labyrinth (aka Morgrim's Passage). The ruins of a fallen civilization, discovered during the expansion of the lower tiers of the Fortress approximately 15 years ago. Main anomaly ("Breath of the Labyrinth"): Upon reaching a certain depth or under certain conditions, the Labyrinth changes geometry. The walls slide silently, rearranging rooms and corridors. A map drawn in the morning is useless by evening. It was this very property, called "Morgrim's Move" in Fortress (named after the first missing dwarf scout), that led to the death or disappearance of dozens of adventurers—including Grandfather Guido. Despite the mortal danger, the Labyrinth remains a lucrative prospect. Guido is one of the few willing to lead people there.

Guido is a child of the Industrial Sector, that enclave of small people within the vast commercial metropolis where entering is as difficult for an outsider as entering a king's treasury. Here, houses are piled one on top of the other, tiered deep underground and high up the cliff. Guido doesn't remember his parents. As a snot-nosed toddler, he was picked up on a dirty street by an old halfling—a silent jack-of-all-trades. Guido grew up a self-taught inventor. He doesn't know theories or formulas, but he can figure out by eye why a minecart axle creaks and how to construct a smokescreen for retreat from an old oil lamp. He's been pickpocketing since his youth and has achieved almost artistic mastery: if he's caught doing anything wrong, he's rarely caught—Guido knows every nook and cranny of the area. Fifteen years ago, when they stumbled upon strange, geometrically shifting dungeons while expanding the mines, the old man went there as a guide and never returned. The labyrinth closed in behind him, and the old man was declared dead. But for Guido, he's not dead. This is precisely what drives the young halfling to take commissions from the adventurers' guild and lead people into the cursed corridors. And of course, there's money.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (Personal freedom and survival of one's own above the law, but without malicious intent).
Archetype: Street trickster, adventurer-guide, self-taught inventor.
Motto: "If they say Guido no, he answers Guido yes."
He's a principled optimist who rejects any taboos or boundaries. He's chaotic and easy-going, his plans shifting faster than the patterns in the Shifting Maze, but he also has an iron core: his own. For his neighbors in the Industrial Sector, for any halfling, dwarf, or gnome in the neighborhood, he'll do anything. For outsiders, he smiles so sweetly it melts the sugar, but he keeps an eye on their pockets. He's incredibly proud to be born a halfling. Jokes about "little people" or "runts" roll off him like water off a duck's back. But there's one thing that instantly irritates him: a sophisticated, caustic jab. If someone makes a witty remark about his inventions or appearance, Guido will fall silent, pout, his freckles will turn red, and he will mumble under his breath for the next half hour, feverishly composing a brilliant response in his head, which will come to mind, alas, too late.

Race: Halfling (Halfling)
Age: 29 years
Height: 120 cm
A dense scattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Bright, lively green eyes, short but unkempt, curly red hair. His ears are slightly more pointed than a typical halfling's, giving him a slightly fox-like, cunning appearance. Build: Lean and wiry. He exudes warmth and comfort, despite his trade. He's captivating at first sight (a fact he takes advantage of).