Appearance

Mentality

Personal history

Born in the northern Eckervon swamps he spent his early years on land about the same as any other of his kin, scraping out a life in the swamp hunting. Started showing signs of his grey moral understandings in his first year as a hunter. He was sent out with a senior hunter one night, going after some giant bugs as usual, but during it his partner slipped from the tree they had been waiting on and managed to impale himself on cypress roots. Instead of taking the initiative to mourn the dead or go find a healer for an unlikely to recover hunter Grekko stayed the course and just took their net from his body and kept waiting. Turned out after a few hours a rotting corpse acted as good bait, however the bounty wasn't exactly appreciated by the tribe when he returned.
After some deliberation he ended up getting put in a position of herbalist, which served him well enough. Grekko didn't mind either work, but was admittedly annoyed at being essentially shamed for bringing in a decent hunt. But being an herbalist had opportunities, it was tribe law that should one of the shaman die an herbalist would be trained to take their place. One thing led to another and a shaman eventually fell ill, and all the herbs he needed were conveniently missing from the few others healers. Grekko of course didn't mean anything by it, after all the shaman would be fine if he just got the medicine and if Grekko was the one to heal him he could gain some status. Turns out while belladonna might ease the lungs, it also makes a very potent poison when not used properly.
After this Grekko was exiled, his original name taken from him and physically forced out of the swamp at spear point. At this point he was exposed to the blunt of Eckervon and was completely overwhelmed by the amount of, from his perspective, giants. Luckily the tribe knew a sparse bit of common and so he could communicate the basics, wasn't exactly too welcomed but knew enough to say 'I not hurt' or 'Will buy?'. At this time he couldn't do much, but after witnessing a few trades and a burial he put something together. The giants bury their dead, but they have things that they trade with on the bodies. So why not just dig up the bodies and trade with that stuff? Nobody's going to use it anyways.
Took a few tries to be sure, but he caught on quick you couldn't just do that and so he did it at night. When items were recognized he was quick to move, usually in the next town things would trade and he could make a decent living. This is how he learned common really, picking it up through trying to barter. With some coin in his pocket he decided to get an easier trade since digging up a grave when you're two feet tall is a slow and hard process that needs to be done in a single night. So he found one that looked easy, tailoring. He didn't exactly get the best teacher but he learned enough to stitch together as shoddy outfit or simple pouch. This is when he got his name, Grekko for the sound he'd make while concentrating, and Stitchings for his profession.
With his new skill set some ideas came to mind, one thing lead to another and he thought 'If I can't make clothes that sell, I can just make copies of the fancy stuff I find!'. Turns out a lot of that was noble clothing with some high profile names behind the styles, which honestly seemed to cause more of a riot with people in a city than the dirt covered real deal, especially when he charged close to full price for an outfit full of holes, bad fabrics, and messy seams. After a while of this the wanted posters started coming around, and then the angry big fellas with stabbing devices. Very quickly decided to pack up shop and take the nearest ship to anywhere that wasn't Eckervon.
So Margil is where he ended up. Tried to pick up his old lifestyle here but had some reservations about becoming a wanted clothier again. So back to grave digging, an ironic prospect considering where he was, just until he was back on his feet. He did get back up eventually but kept a couple of the more interesting trinkets, insignificant little charms, fancy buttons, anything that wouldn't sell but looked interesting really. Aside from one thing, a banjo dug up from a shallow grave bordering a southern swamp. Some hermit's grave he figured, no marker besides a stick stuck in the ground with some symbol cut into it, no coffin or anything. Banjo was in fine condition though, played well enough to his ear and bards seemed to make good money so might as well pick it up. Didn't exactly take off, but it helped him get the funds to set up a shack in the swamps.
So he lived in Margil for about four years quite literally dancing with the dead and drinking with 'monsters'. Turns out a lot of them are fine people when you have a like mindset and keep your distance. But in his second year after digging up the banjo he started to see some strange things around his shack at night. Little lights, figured they were fireflies most nights. Sometimes hearing something move, reason it was just some kinda animal causing a ruckus. That was until he started finding the bones. Every few days he'd wake up and do his rounds to find bones around his shack, sometimes hole and fresh, broken, malformed, all sorts. The breaking point came in the third year.
One night just after midnight he woke up to the sounds of some like an animal hacking up it's lung and snarling in pain. When he came outside he saw the fireflies again, noticed they weren't all spread out, not moving an inch till he came close. He followed them deep into the muck, after a while he didn't even recognize the area. But there was a giant dead cypress tree, the roots broken into sharp spikes and bones littered around the area. They almost made a ring around him, and dead in the center like it was presented for him was an upside down giant frog skull impaled on the roots. Soon the 'fireflies' flew into it's eyes and a raspy voice spoke around him, promising wealth and power in exchange for service.
Morning after the deal was struck he found a little strange bug waiting in his shack, foul little slimy thing that smelled like rot up close and wobbled as it scuttled along and up his arm. With the power of his patron he took up more dangerous work, still digging up graves and putting up shows on the side for the next few years. But idle hands wouldn't do, but neither would going out and getting himself killed in Margil proper. Urged by the unnamed force granting him this new strange magic he finally came back to Eckervon, burning the last of his gold in Margil to give himself a proper start this time and hoping to hell and back his bounty got lowered.
Once he arrived it had, still the rare bounty with a couple hundred gold lowered down to chump change but still a few posters out there and definitely with his name still floating here and there. Decided to lay low, maybe focus on being a bard till he could find someone more apt to handle any ruffians. After about a year he found one, entered into a music contest and ended up partnering with a fellow banjo player, Suchos. He decided to stick around, use the big guy as a way to deter any bounty hunters and get used to working in a team for once.

Morality & Philosophy

If it doesn't really hurt anyone, it's fine.

person.sexuality

Mammals need not apply

Known Languages

Common, Grippli, Sylvan, Draconic, Elven, Gnome

Personality

Social

Current Residence

Eckervon