Eykit the Eel

Eykit Hykkisi (a.k.a. The Eel)

Physical Description

General Physical Condition

In fair shape.

Facial Features

Wide mouth, filled with sharp teeth. Wide set eyes, large, swiveling ears.

Special abilities

Very good at talking.

Mental characteristics

Personal history

Eykit grew up in a poor household, in the New Square district of Port Karn. His parents both worked, Da as a dyer, Ma as a washerwoman. What they brought in barely covered the rent for the small apartment in the insula they lived in and the food they needed to eat. There was little, if any, extra for things like shoes or clothes. Eykit grew up in hand-me-downs and cast-offs. So he turned to stealing at a young age. Fortunately for him, he was a charming boy who always had a ready story or excuse, and managed to not stay caught for long. When he was 6 (the equivalent of a 12 year old Human) he got involved with the New Square Skulls, a thieves’ guild that had a territory that amounted to about ten blocks. They ran protection schemes, pickpockets, illegal drugs, breaking and entering, loan sharking, and, very rarely, murders. They didn’t do hits; these murders were more along the lines of muggings gone wrong, or killing while doing some other job. They didn’t do assassinations.
Eykit started off on a mugging crew as lookout. He was small, quiet, and seemed to be able to detect the City Watch with an almost magical precision. He was a very good lookout.
As he grew older, he ended up on a pickpocketing crew, performing as bump, dip, and bag at various times. But picking pockets wasn’t his cup of tea. No, he was more interested in locks, or, more specifically, how to get past them.
If a door was unlocked, it was an invitation for entry. If it was locked, but pickable, it was an invitation to entry with a test first. He found he was pretty good at those kinds of tests.
But his main claim to fame was his silver tongue. That boy could talk his way out of just about anything. His verbal barrage became legendary amongst the gangs, both his own and the others they had interactions with.
This ability served him in good stead, because his character flaws kept getting him in trouble. He was greedy, and shiny things attracted his eye, and he never said no to a job that paid money. And his impulsiveness, barely under any kind of control, meant that he would immediately agree to just about any hare-brained idea. Much of the time, his natural skills of stealthy silence, Goblin hearing, and his preternatural ability to seem to always know when to cut and run kept him from being caught. But not always. When those bad decisions caught up with him, it was up to his silver tongue to somehow get him out of trouble.
As a result, he hasn’t been hanged yet, although he has spent time in various jails, but never for very long.
As a result of all of this, however, he has managed to gain a bit of a reputation. To the guild members, he’s a charming, devilish rogue who is skilled beyond his years. To the City Guard, however, he is a notorious thief who somehow manages to always slip through their fingers. The City Guard call him “Eykit the Eel”. The name spread, even to other guilds in the city. Now most of the guilds refer to him simply as “The Eel”.
But before he was known as the Eel, he was just another thief. A clever, sneaky, skilled thief, but a thief nevertheless. One with a particular mental disposition towards doing things that most others would consider...wrong.
One night, Eykit was casing a warehouse. It was owned by Grysha One-Tusk, a trader specializing in blown glassware. This glassware was almost exclusively decorative, with inlaid gold and silver in addition to the finest glass. His clientele was the rich, usually, but not always, the nobility. There were several nobles in Port Karn who owned several pieces in their townhouses. These pieces ranged from goblets, to jars, to plates, to wall decorations and vases. And they had just gotten a shipment in from their artisans. Eykit had watched as the wagon, laden with delicate treasures, trundled into the warehouse earlier in the afternoon.
Now it was dark, a couple hours before midnight. The traffic on the streets was reduced, but here in Port Karn it was never zero. Too many Orcs and Goblins, plus the other races’ night owls. But there weren’t nearly as many people as there was during the day.
Eykit was on the roof of the warehouse across the street, laying on his stomach, peering down at the street-facing door of Grysha’s warehouse. There was a pair of awning windows on the wall above the door, and Eykit could see some light through them. From his vantage point, it looked like there was a light lit at the rear of the warehouse, but nothing near the doors. This was good. Even better was the fact that one of the windows was open to let in the night breeze, now that the day had cooled. The walls were rough stone, and the roof was reddish tile. With some effort, Eykit figured he could climb up the corner of the building, then leap over to the open window, and climb inside.
He got moving. Down the roof, to the gargoyle, to the corbel, with the doubled cord looped over it. Down the rope, then pull one side and coil the line. He hid in the shadows; there were some oil lamps lit along the street, but they were few and far between, and not nearly as good as the ones lit by mages and their light spells in the more wealthy parts of town. He crouched in the bushes that framed the alleyway between the Bosker’s Warehouse, whose roof had recently been his lookout point, and the empty, fire-eaten husk of a building that had been an apartment complex with eight units. Eykit had no idea where all those people, displaced by the conflagration, lived now.
He watched the passersby for a while, then, judging that no one was paying attention, walked into the street, as nonchalantly as possible. He walked past the targeted warehouse, then turned into its alley, where the shadows were deepest. He crouched behind a barrel, waiting until anyone that may have seen him cross the street was far away.
He started up the corner of the building, finding hand and footholds in the rough stone. He got up nearly to the top, just below the window, which was open, giving him just enough space to worm through, assuming he could jump over and grab onto the bottom window sill. It looked easy from across the street. Not so easy from where he clutched at the stone.
But there were some nice, expensive goodies inside that warehouse. And he wanted them.
He scrambled a bit to the side with the window, and, as he felt himself losing his grip, flung his 75 pound body in the direction of the window. His fingers scrabbled on the wood sill as he arced past and down, but his fingers held. He hung there for a moment, his body penduluming back and forth as he got a better grip on the sill, then pulled himself up through the gap between the window frame and the sill. He almost got caught halfway through, as his butt bumped up against the frame, but he managed to squeeze through, dropping onto a wooden crate on the top shelf of a shelving unit with a dull thump.
“Oi, what was that?” a human-sounding voice said. It was the night watchman, hired by Grysha to keep tabs on the warehouse. Eykit knew, from a few days of observation, that there was only one watchman. He was pretty certain he would be able to avoid him. Hopefully.
Eykit stayed where he was, not moving, not making a sound. He listened, and he could hear the footsteps and jangling keys of the watchman as he made his rounds through the warehouse’s passages between the shelves.
The warehouse wasn’t one of the biggest in Port Karn. It was about eighty feet by thirty feet, with 10 rows of shelving, each 20 feet long, oriented perpendicularly to the long axis of the building, and each about eight feet apart. At one end was the light, and below that, the watch desk. It was actually just a desk, usually used for accounting and other paperwork purposes, but at night, it was the watch desk.
Eykit waited until the watchman had satisfied his curiosity by finding nothing amiss. Then he crept across the shelving until he came to a ladder, which he used as quietly as he could to get down.
First order of business: unlock a door as an escape route. There was no way he was going to be able to use the window, not with fragile and expensive glasswork in his hands. That part actually wasn’t that difficult. While the door was in the line of sight of the watch desk, and the watchman sitting behind it, it was dark at the front of the building, and Eykit was pretty certain he was lost in the gloom. It didn’t hurt that he wore dark clothing. He carefully turned the latch, unlocking the door. The slight clink that sounded made him freeze, and he glanced at the watchman to see if he had been heard. No, he decided, he hadn’t. Eykit felt a surge of relief. At least now he had an escape route, and he was fairly certain that he would be able to lose the watchman, once he got outside.
That done, it was time to find some cool stuff to steal.
Staying in the shadowed side of the building, the young thief tried to open the crates, looking for one that had been pried open already. He could pry one open himself, if necessary, but that would lead to noise, which would lead to getting caught, which would lead to one of many kinds of disasters. Best to avoid that, if possible.
He found a crate with a loose board. It was three rows closer to the guard, which was unfortunate, but not as bad as it could have been. He felt inside the box with his fingers, careful of whatever might be inside. He felt straw, and a rounded, cool surface. He grasped it carefully, and drew it out of the crate. It was a bowl, with a lace-like patterned lip. He held it up so that the dim lamplight from the desk shone through it. Dark blue glass with violet swirl patterns met his eye, with gold inlay chasing the lip. Nice!
He reached into the crate again, and drew out a second bowl. It appeared to be a set, similarly decorated. He pulled out two more. They all more or less matched, with the same design elements. Of course, the glass itself, being blown, varied, but the colors were consistent. Eykit figured they should be able to get him at least $200!
He needed something to pad these things as he made his way out and away. If it hadn’t been a sweltering spring night, he might have had a cloak. But no, not tonight. But he had his Darkness strip….
He pulled out the thick roll of material, and wove it between and around the stacked bowls, now separated from each other by a layer of cloth, and the whole bundle was wrapped with the remainder of the sixteen foot length. He tied his cord around it, securing it in its bundle.
He wished he could get some more stuff, but….
Eykit made his way to his escape door, lifting the handle and pulling the door open. He got a prickle on the back of his neck as he did so.
It creaked on its hinges, and he heard the chair scuff as the watchman in it surged to his feet. The door was heavier than Eykit had expected, and it resisted for a moment before he could get a foot on the doorframe for leverage. One hand holding his loot, the other pulling on the door, it slowly opened.
“Hey! You! Stop where you are!” the watchman yelled as he pulled out a cudgel from a loop on his belt. Then he blew a whistle, its shriek echoing in the cavernous room. Dim light filtered in from the outside, outlining Eykit’s short, slender form—and the bundle he carried, larger than his head.
He fled outside, the watchman only thirty feet behind him, and gaining.
“Geckim!” Eykit breathed, which was Mekiitagi for “feces”. He pushed his little legs faster.
The watchman blew the whistle again as he emerged from the warehouse door, and now people were turning their heads in his direction. He turned down an alley, getting out of view of the street. The watchman knew where he went, though, and was following closely, now only about twenty feet behind. “Come here, you little shit!” he heard the watchman say vehemently.
He reached the end of the building, and turned the corner, hoping for another nearby alley, obstacle, or group of people. No luck. There was a group of people, all right. Two of them. In the red and gold striped City Guard uniforms. He ran right into their arms.
“Well now,” the taller Human of the two said, as his partner picked up the squirming Eykit, “what have we here?”
The warehouse watchman stumbled up to them, panting. “This here little guy stole from Grysha’s warehouse!”
“Uncle!” Eykit exclaimed, hugging the City Guardsman who held him.
“What?” the guardsman replied, confused, looking into Eykit’s guileless, grinning face.
“Uncle, it’s so good to see you again! It’s been months! You have to come by and visit Mama and me!” He squirmed a bit, and the confusion in the guard’s mind loosened his hands just enough to allow Eykit to drop to the ground. He rolled through the guard’s legs, then bolted.
The two guards, confused as to what happened, were slow to turn, and effectively acted as a block to the warehouseman, who spent a precious few seconds trying to get around the guards, who, by no fault of their own, managed to get in his way on accident.
They got moving just as Eykit turned down an alley between two shops. The alley was not long, and Eykit toppled a barrel and a wheelbarrow on his way through. He was long gone before his three pursuers managed to get past the obstacles.
Having ditched his pursuers, Eykit shouldered the cord wrapped bundle, and made his way to the shop of Dexon Lomas. Dexon sold general merchandise. If he could get it, he sold it. Food, furniture, tools, even weapons, on occasion. And stolen goods.
Dexon lived in a flat above his store, in a stone building with a red tile roof, although there was enough moss growing up there that it looked more green than red. Eykit scaled the tree growing by the building, scrambled across a mostly horizontal bough, and tossed an acorn at the closed window that he knew was Dexon’s window. When there was no response, he tossed another, then another.
Finally, a middle aged Human slide the sash up, peered out with bleary, sleep-filled eyes, and said, “Eykit, that you?”
“It is, Mr. Lomas. I’ve got some stuff to sell you.”
“At ungodly o’clock? Really?” Dexon pulled his head and shoulders back into the room, “Come on in, scamp.”
Eykit hopped from the branch to the sill, then into the room, being careful with his cargo of artisanal glassware.
“Make it quick, scamp, I wanna go back to sleep.”
Eykit unwrapped the bowls, setting each one on a table as it was unwrapped. Dexon, meanwhile, had shut the window, closed the drapes, and lit an oil lamp.
The four decorative bowls gleamed colorfully in the lamp light. “Those are nice specimens, young Eykit.”
Eykit did look young. His size made him look like a child. But Dexon should know better; Goblins matured and aged faster than Humans, and despite being 16 years old, in Human terms he was fully adult and in the prime of his life. Sometimes it bothered him, like tonight.
“You know, Dexon, that I’m effectively almost as old as you are, right? How about cutting the ‘youngin’ bit, huh?”
Dexon was looking at the bowls, and only listening to Eykit’s complaint with half an ear. “Of course, kid.”
Eykit glared at the back of Dexon’s head. It really wasn’t worth arguing over. Still occasionally irked him, though.
“I’ll give you $100 for the lot,” Dixon stated.
“300. You know they are worth a lot, especially as a matching set.”
Dexon turned to look at him. “I can’t get rid of these things at that price. There are risks with these, especially since they are so recognizable. 150.”
“Risks? I got caught by the Guard! Managed to get away, though. I have the Guard breathing down my neck now due to these things. They want them back, which tells me they are valuable.”
“Got away? How? If they actually caught you, you would be in a dank cell right now.”
“Guard caught me, had me in his grasp, and, well, I called him ‘uncle’ and told him he should visit more often. His grip loosened, and I ran through his legs and away before they could even turn around.”
“Huh. Less a scamp, more of an eel.” Dexon looked impressed. “Fine. 175.”
“250. These are top notch pieces of art!”
“Oh, for Mithras’ sake. 200. Anything more, and I won’t be able to get them to a buyer. You know we won’t be able to sell them in town.”
Eykit tilted his head in thought. “All right. 225.”
Dexon didn’t look pleased, but he nodded grudgingly and said, “Deal!” He went to a closet, filled with linens. He pulled out some old, threadbare towels and wrapped the bowls in them, putting them in a cupboard. Then he pulled out a box, unlocked it, and counted out 225 royals, which he put into Eykit’s hand.
“You are a slippery little bastard, Eel. Now git,” Dexon said, “and let me go back to sleep. And use the back door.”
Eykit knew the drill, he’d been here many times before. Down the stairs, turn right, go to the end of the hall and out the door. He heard the lock click after the door closed behind him. He went off into the night, a successful night’s work.
That wasn’t his last run-in with the City Guard. He had many, and always managed, somehow, to escape punishment. His epithet became known, both to the Guard, and to other Thieves’ Guilds. “Eykit the Eel.”
His guild master, Toren Ghent, was grooming him to be their negotiator and diplomat, although so far, Eykit has balked at the responsibility. He has shadowed Ghent when Ghent had meetings with other guilds, however, although that was mostly because Ghent insisted rather strongly, and Eykit wasn’t an idiot.

Education

Eykit's education came from the street, plus whatever he could glean from the New Town Skulls.

Employment

Currently "employed" by the New Town Skulls. Although at the moment, he is freelancing with what could only be called "adventurers" (actually a wandering huntress and an unattached mercenary).

Accomplishments & Achievements

Has impressed his guild with his ability to talk, including the guildmaster, Toren Ghent, who would like to groom him for diplomacy.

Failures & Embarrassments

Not really good with weapons.

Intellectual Characteristics

Impulsive. Charismatic, and has a way with words.

Morality & Philosophy

Generally doesn't like to hurt people. Most of the time.

Social

Contacts & Relations

The members of the New Town Skulls crime syndicate.

Eykit is a member of the New Town Skulls, a thieves' guild located in the south-central section of Port Karn. He started out as a pickpocket, but was always more interested in locks and getting into places he wasn't welcome.

Current Location

The City of Port Karn

Species

Goblin

Age

16 (corresponds to early 30's in a human)

Date of Birth

Heatdaze 19, 863 AFE

Gender

Male

Eyes

Grey

Hair

Black

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Olive green

Height

3'11"

Weight

75 lbs

Related Plots

• The Goblin Cannibalism Problem

Related Reports

• Adv Log Session 33: The Capture of Zorion Clemens
• Adv Log Session 34 Adventures in Botany!
• Adv Log Session 40: Dwarfchat, Finally
• Adv Log Session 42: Looking for Kallia in Dwarfchat
• Adv Log, Session 30: The Breathstealer, Part 1
• Adv Log, Session 31: The Breathstealer, Part 2
• Adv Log, Session 32: The End of the Breathstealer, and Shadowing Zorion Clemens
• Adv Log, Session 35: Lytan's Mill
• Adv Log, Session 36: On the River to Dwarfchat
• Adv Log, Session 37: On the River to Dwarfchat, Part 2
• Adv Log, Session 38: On the River to Dwarfchat, Part 3
• Adv Log, Session 39: On the River to Dwarfchat, Part 4
• Adventure Log 18: The Cult of the Cannibal Goblins, Part 4
• Adventure Log 19, The Cult of the Cannibal Goblins, Part 5
• Adventure Log, Session 10 The Journey Back to Port Karn
• Adventure Log, Session 11 Back in Port Karn
• Adventure Log, Session 12 The Heist at Kraite Manor, Part 1
• Adventure Log, Session 13, The Heist at Kraite Manor, Part 2
• Adventure Log, Session 14 The Game of Shards
• Adventure Log, Session 15, The Cult of Cannibal Goblins, Part 1
• Adventure Log, Session 16 The Cult of the Cannibal Goblins, Part 2
• Adventure Log, Session 17 The Cult of the Cannibal Goblins, Part 3
• Adventure Log, Session 2 The Three Adventurers Meet
• Adventure Log, Session 20, The Game of Shards, Continued
• Adventure Log, Session 21, A Game of Shards, Part 3
• Adventure Log, Session 22 Investigating the Letters
• Adventure Log, Session 23 Lennerd Fountainsmith
• Adventure Log, Session 24, Lennerd's Lab
• Adventure Log, Session 25 Lennerd's Lab, Part 2, and the Search for JC
• Adventure Log, Session 26 Trying to Get Nathan by Sneaking into Isleton
• Adventure Log, Session 27: Trying to Find Nathan
• Adventure Log, Session 28: Almë Gets Visited By Some Old "Friends"
• Adventure Log, Session 29: Meeting Ruby and Her Dog
• Adventure Log, Session 3 The Three Adventurers Look For Work
• Adventure Log, Session 4 The Old Orc Temple, Part 1
• Adventure Log, Session 5 The Old Orc Temple, Part 2
• Adventure Log, Session 6 The Old Orc Temple, Part 3
• Adventure Log, Session 7 The Old Orc Temple, Part 4
• Adventure Log, Session 8 The Old Orc Temple, Part 5
• Adventure Log, Session 9 The Old Orc Temple, Part 6

Known Languages

Imperial, Mekiitagi.