Name: Hob Gadling
DoB: Sometime around the Autumn of 1357AD
Place of Birth: Ditchley in the Forest: Earth: Sol System
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: 13st
Occupation: Wanderer, vagabond, trader, soldier, bounty hunter.


History (ancient)
I don't really expect anyone to believe that I was born in the reign of Edward III, to Richard the tailor's son and Alice the smith's daughter but it is the truth none the less.
But you will be wanting to know of how my longevity came about no doubt? It was in the year 1389, the weather had been poor, the harvest bad. I was in the White Horse, on the London road, much ale had been consumed along with cold bacon and three day old bread, as I said times was hard. I remember discussing the nature of death with my companions and being laughed at by my assertion that death was a mugs game and not for me.
This gentleman approached our group, pale he was, a merchant or minor noble I guessed him to be by the cut of his finery. Pale, and eyes that you could not focus on, like trying to stare into a deep well, or at a faint star on a moonless night. He quips with me and dares me to meet him in the very same inn one hundred years hence.
This brought fresh humour from my companions but all the same when 1489 came around I found myself face to face with the pale gentleman across a table in the White Horse sharing a penny ale once more. And so it continued every one hundred years, we meet, discuss our fortunes  and our plans and I am told that death will not touch me until I desire it. There have been good times and bad but nothing that has changed my initial claim that death is a mugs game.

I have probably forgotten more than many people ever learn, but that is the problem with such age, I think there is a limited capacity that our brains can hold. In fact I can remember more of my earlier years than some of the later, more recent ones.
In my time I have been a soldier, a merchant, a bandit. I fought for both Lancaster and York in those wars, became rich when the monasteries fell. Lost it all when I backed the King in his troubles. Easy come easy go as they say.
Made another fortune trading slaves then lost it again trying to right the wrongs done by the trade in people. I don't believe I can ever make restitution for that, everyone is born free. I have learnt to heed the advice of my benefactor. I will never trade in human lives again.
I travelled to the new world then to new worlds when space opened up.
I remember when the generation ships were leaving in droves like rats from a sinking ship and hated the fact I could not join them. Try explaining how you are the only original crew member on a generation ship when it reached its destination!

The fourth great war was a bad time, same mistakes repeated again and again. Not that I am claiming to know better I doubt I am any wiser than when I was crawling around the shit encrusted floor of the hovel I was born in.
I spent 99 years in a cave on New California in the Epsilon Eridani system once, just to see if it would bring enlightenment. It never came; all that I achieved was a sore back and the desire for comfort, good food, better drink and to start a new set of peregrinations once more.
And so you will find me wandering the systems; a bit of trading, a bit of soldiery, a bit of banditry, hunting the occasional bounty, pretty much as I have always done.

If you don't believe this story ask one of the others that I have met over the years who don't seem to die. Mad Hettie, I haven't seen her in a while, John Carpenter, Ashildr and the like, they are all still out there somewhere.