The thirst for knowledge can never be quenched, and Rumbagh drinks from a leaking cup. In ages past, Rumbagh would bounce between walls of an ancient repository of knowledge, sweeping through tomes that covered every bit of collected understanding. Art, sciences, history, economics, he craved to learn all of this and more. Like-minded academics could probe his mind for obscure tidbits of information and he was more than happy to share what he knew, all without looking up from his duties. Then one day he looked up and the grand halls of his library were empty. The loremaster gone, the scholars and students no longer pouring over his collection, he was left alone.
Time went on and Rumbagh carried out his duties of caring for the tomes and scrolls that represented all that was known and understood. Pages soon turned to dust, ink faded, and soon his very own memory failed him.
But Rumbagh was never one to shy away from his duties. He spends his time roaming the land, exploring new places and visiting old friends. He has amassed a collection of goods and wealth he is more than happy to part with in exchange for new trinkets and knowledge. He never turns down an offering for his collection, knowing that somebody somewhere would offer more than he did to acquire it. After all, the pursuit of knowledge is an expensive one.