Burz Logdar was an accomplished merchant and trader back in the day. He doesn't talk about his travels now but most people know he is pretty well off for just a common trader. He also get visited by rather strange and odd folk every once in awhile.
He is a rather gruff person but he is constantly followed by street children for a reason. He is generous and has a soft spot for those who don't have a home of their own. He even had a soup kitchen and clinic set up in the city to help those in need.
For the most part he stays to himself, some say he is mysterious on purpose, claiming he is actually someone of import or infamy. Maybe a bandit lord who is hiding out, maybe a noble who left his house, he'll some even claim he is a retired warhero...or pirate. Most just don't accept that he was a simple merchant. The scars crisscrossing his face indicate a harder life than that.
The truth is, he was just a simple merchant, or he had been at one point. He never stopped being a merchant but soon he was anything but simple. Burz was once known as The Scale for in one hand he held gold and goods to trade, and in the other he held a sword. As he got richer that sword became deadlier.
Soon Burz was a known figure to anyone powerful enough to take note. He traveled without hearth or home for decades. Sometimes Adventurers would find him deep in a Dungeon or in a wild clearing in the forest.
The thought to rob the lone Half-Orc and take all of his magical items and money crossed many would-be bandits minds. The ones that tried didn't live long. Burz always saved the best magic items for himself and wasn't shy about using overkill to protect himself. That is all behind him now, he has settled down and sold off all of his inventory. He still gets visits from time to time. Old Adventurers looking to cat h up with a friend, young merchants looking for advice and even assassins and thieves looking to plunder what items, gold and secrets he still has. Those kind of visitors are never seen again.
Burz just wants to retire in peace, unfortunately it seems like no one else wants that for him. He spent his life without a solid bed, or home. He chose that life and knows how hard it is to sleep on the ground day after day. He doesn't think people should be subjected to that just because they were born poor and have to economic way to rise.
Tears fall in the night, when this cutthroat merchant thinks of the little ones on the street. The next day he will walk through the worst ghettos and slums, not fearing the little thugs and pickpockets.
He spent his life collecting things, and now he gives them away. Nothing that would help a powerful person, something that most adventurers would sell immediately if they found it.
A magic candle that never goes out, a magic blanket that will keep you warm on all but the worst nights. A cup that refills slowly over a day, a enchanted bar of soap that is never ending. A pillow that gives good dreams, or a book that reads itself or a cooking pot that doubles any food put in.
Simple magics that most wouldn't think of as powerful, but to people living day to day they are miracles. Woe be to anyone who decides that Burz gave an item to the wrong person and tries to take it for themselves. Then the kindly philanthropist disappears and the Mad Merchant who challenged countless dungeons and monsters appears. No one tries to steal from those Burz has blessed anymore.
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