Mike Peters, Baby Detective - Is This Anything?

Meet Mike Peters, Baby Detective.

Fourteen months old. Bald. Steady on his feet. Unsteady on the moral certainty of everyone around him.

He wears a trench coat that drags two inches too long and carries a weighted wooden rattle that has ended more arguments than it started. A pacifier strap, reinforced and expertly knotted, serves as a sling. Marbles disappear from pockets shortly before suspects collapse clutching their temples.

Mike does not babble.

Mike speaks.

“Wisten,” he says, peering over the edge of a tavern table, magnifying glass in hand. “You said you wewe in the stabwe at dusk. But youw boots awe cwean. That means you’we wying. And I don’t wike wyers.”

He does not shout. He does not cry. He studies.

Eyes flick to doorways. Fingers twitch. Guilt smells different from ale.

Most thinking creatures hesitate before striking him. A baby? Surely not. Surely this is a misunderstanding.

It isn’t.

From the far side of the battlefield, a marble whistles through the air with impossible precision. When the distance closes, the rattle lands with the quiet, judicial certainty of a gavel.

He keeps his notes in crayon. He keeps his secrets to himself.

Mike Peters has never lost a case.

Nap time is negotiable. Justice is not.

---

Mike Peters, Baby Detective Rogue, Inquisitive Lightfoot Halfling

Reads people, surroundings, and situations. Uses a slingshot loaded with marbles at range, a weighted rattle (club) close up.

Along with the typical Sneak Attack (who sees a baby as a threat?), Cunning Action (where’d he go?!), and Unnaturally Lucky Baby (reroll 1s), he also has the Innocent Facade feat.

INNOCENT FACADE: Intelligent creatures (INT 6+) must succeed on a Wisdom save (DC = 8 + Prof + CHA) the first time they attempt to attack Mike Peters, Baby Detective in combat. On a failure, they must choose a different target or lose the attack. However, creatures with INT 5 or lower have advantage on attack rolls against him, as they believe he is an easy target, and possibly also food.

Out of combat, Mike Peters, Baby Detective is impeccably polite. He waits for adults to finish speaking. He maintains eye contact. He folds his hands on the table like a tiny magistrate presiding over a very disappointing court. He tilts his head when someone lies.

He crawls under tables mid-interrogation. He stares up at hardened mercenaries with wide, unblinking eyes. He requests milk in taverns and listens to everything. He does not understand sarcasm, but he does understand motive. He does not quite grasp metaphor, but he absolutely grasps opportunity.

He asks simple questions. The kind that should have simple answers.

“Who ewse knew?”
“Why did you wock the doow?”
“Whewe wewe you when the wiww was wewwitten?”