Skreet
In the knot of stalls and boardwalks that make up Ming’Ye’s Mercantile District, Skreet moves beyond the pack of traders and storefronts—his shopfront safe, humble in appearance, yet behind the shutters lies the iron ledger of labour and servitude. His rat-eyes gleam under low lantern-light; long ears twitch at footsteps in the alley, whiskers brushing the door frame of crates labelled “Exotic Goods.” Two nights past, one of those crates held a group of weary workers—no titles, no rights—now delivered to the slaving guild’s hidden ledger.
Skreet’s body is slender, fur mottled where his rat-traits show: claws sharper than the iron of his cage-keys. He wields not blade but contract, not fists but promises. The dark elves of Dynastes look to him for routes, for cargo, for slaves who vanish into the under-city. And they pay. He speaks in merchant’s tone in daylight; at night he descends into the sewers.
Current Location
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Children
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Man
Aligned Organization