Bad Reputation.

To know Clootie, first you need to know the McToots.
The clan McToot were unique when comparing them to other gnomes. According to their own history, the McToot’s rebelled against the wicked rule of the (or possibly "a") Queen of the Gnomes, and were therefore exiled from settling with other gnome folk. According to everyone else, they were kicked out for causing fights and being drunk at two in the afternoon. Therefor they never settled into their own village and after many years began to break off into small McToot clans, preferring to travel through the Duergar Mountains and forests.
McToot’s spend their time drinking, fighting and stealing, alone or in various combinations. The immense strength and rowdiness of these gnomes means that they will fight anything, and they have a particular fondness for head-butting creatures far larger than themselves. In a good fight, a McToot will take on all comers, including his fellow McToot’s (or, in their absence, themselves), with such enthusiasm that makes missing someone hazardous ("Crivens! I kicked meself in ma ain heid!").
They take pride in being able to get into, or out of, anywhere (although getting out of pubs presents something of a difficulty). Despite their usual policy of non-contact with bigjobs (humans, or anyone bigger than them), the rare McToot has been known to hire out their services.
McToot’s are pale skinned compared to their Forest Gnome brothers. When a McToot reaches adulthood their skin appears blue because it is heavily tattooed and covered with woad. All McToot’s have red hair. Their speech can only be described as some sort of variation on the Scots. They are notably strong and resilient, which comes in handy given that (almost all) male McToot’s tend to be notoriously rowdy as a lifestyle. McToot’s tend to have human names, usually abbreviated and with some sort of modifier (Rob Anybody, Daft Wullie, Big Aggie, Wee Jock), though their respect for inheriting and repeating famous names limits them a bit (No'-as-big-as-Medium-Sized-Jock-but-bigger-than-Wee-Jock Jock).
The males of the clan are warriors, hunters and foragers; McToot foraging consists of taking anything that is not nailed down (if it is nailed down, they will prise it loose and take the nails as well), up to and including quite large cows if enough foragers can be gathered to do the lifting. Fighting is likewise a group effort of the clan. When encountering a foe much larger than themselves, (which is most anything the McToot’s pick a fight with,) the clan will stack themselves up like a pyramid, until the top one is high enough to punch the enemy or, preferably, head-butt them. Once an enemy is brought to the ground, the entire clan will spring into action, attacking the foe as a single, united force. Despite carrying swords that are nearly as large as they themselves, generally their preferred weapons are the boot and the head; this results in most McToot’s noses being broken.
Among the warriors of each clan is a gonnagle; a bard or war-poet, whose job is to create terrible poetry that is recited during battles to demoralise the enemy. A well-trained gonnagle can even make the enemy's ears explode and is usually equipped with bagpipes. A legend in McToot history, the gonnagle, Awf'lly Wee Billy Bigchin, could play the bagpipes so sadly that it will start to rain outside. A gonnagle tends to be somewhat more intelligent and level-headed than most other male McToot’s, and often acts as an advisor to the Big Man. McToot’s have a fear of the written word so rely on their gonnagle to keep their history.
Despite their criminal tendencies, the McToot’s do possess a sense of honour. They see no sport in fighting the weak. They may take one cow from a man with a herd of fifty; however, they will not steal an old woman's only pig, or an old man's only pair of false teeth. As a rule, the McToot’s will never steal from the truly poor.
The McToot’s possess a eusocial culture similar to bees, termites and other social insects. The clan is made up of hundreds of brothers, and one mother, called a Kelda. When a Clan's Kelda dies, another is imported from a different clan. The new Kelda chooses her husband, known as the Big Man, from among her adopted Clan when she arrives, and soon begins the lifelong task of begetting the next generation. Depending on how long the Kelda has been Kelda, the majority of the tribe will either be her brothers-in-law (i.e., the sons of the previous Kelda) or her sons. Daughters are very rare and, on coming of age, leave to become kelda of another tribe, taking some brothers, probably including a gonnagle with her. Essentially, the role of the Kelda is to do the thinking. The Big Man is responsible for commanding his fellow McToot’s and trying to maintain some semblance of order, but in truth the Kelda decides what will be done and the Big Man works out the fine (for a McToot’s plans) details—although no Big Man would go on a serious expedition and not bring along the clan gonnagle, (who tend to be much brighter than the other male McToot’s and have a fund of lore, stories, and ideas they can draw upon.)
Into this world, a Miss Clootie McToot was born...