"One Eared" Fik's page

Fik has always been unlike other goblins. At an early age, he knew that what the other goblins thought of as the world was a cage. This is literal, of course, since all goblins are born into cages. He yearned to be free, he yearned to live, and more than anything, he yearned to have power. He wanted to be the best of all goblins. None of his tribe, ‘the big mean scary goblins what live someplace abouts in that forest, you know, the one that has all them trees that sort of look like they have elbows’ (they weren’t very good at naming things), knew why none of the other goblin babies put in with Fik survived the night, but assumed it was the result of some comical and quirky series of accidents. This is a goblin’s default excuse for the unexplainable.
Fik grew up to be considerably smaller than his fellow goblins, which lead to more than a little good natured ribbing from his fellow goblins. This means, in goblin terms, that Fik very quickly became the tribe punching bag. Fik found this very insulting, and pondered for some time what he should do about it. After examining the complexities of goblin culture, he realized that strength of arms is the means to power. He resolved to challenge the tribe’s chief, Gnak Earbiter, to single combat. He was soundly defeated. Predictably, Gnak chewed off both of Fik’s ears. In something of a rare occurrence, Fik’s life was spared. This was most likely because Fik had barely managed to say “I challen-“ before Gnak had beaten him within an inch of his life, and Gnak was sort of embarrassed about the whole business.
Fik was greatly shamed, and left his tribe in disgrace. He wandered the ‘forest with all them trees that sort of look like they have elbows’ (someplace in Varisia, for those of you who know human geography), for quite some time wondering how his plan had gone wrong. Eventually he stumbled across the remnants of what appeared to be an ancient battleground, and something quite peculiar clutched tightly by the decaying hands of one of the combatants: an ornate and heavily engraved musket, with some kind of shield with animals and writing and stuff around it. Fik, of course, was too goblinlike at this stage, but eventually discovered this was what humans called a “family crest.” He also discovered, rather more quickly, the destructive capacity of the musket. It dawned on him, sometime between these two revelations (rather closer to the first though), that he could use this weapon to take his vengeance.
Fik quickly sped back to his tribe, filled with rage. A rage that quickly grew into a flame-like hatred; which, like flame, spread to the other goblins in his tribe, and from there grew into an inferno of hatred for all goblins. Deciding that the direct course was for chumps, Fik snuck into the camp while Gnak was sleeping and placed the muzzle of his new boomy stick up to the face of his tormentor. Gnak woke up just in time to see the earless Fik standing over him, and then briefly register the flash that signalled the destruction of the majority of his head. In fact, all that was left was a single ear. Fik took it as a trophy and as a reminder that all goblins are jerks.
Fik did some soul searching in that moment, that brief moment when the second, third and fourth largest goblins in his tribe walked in the door. He realized that maybe he was going about becoming the best goblin the wrong way. He reasoned instead, that the quickest way to become the best goblin was to become the only goblin. He also realized he wasn’t quite sure how he could reload in time to prevent himself becoming a fine red mist, and decided that running would be the best choice. As it turns out, he needn’t have bothered, as the three larger goblins immediately began fighting amongst themselves in order to determine who would be the new chief. It is said, among Fik’s former tribe mates, that Fik used dark magic (and probably written language) to blow up Gnak’s head and hypnotize the largest goblins into fighting. This is in the grandest tradition of sentient beings to blame others for their problems. It is also said, that Fik had grown to at least a billion feet tall, with burning red eyes that he occasionally shoots fire from, and he also ate half the tribe that night, and taught no less than four children to read. Needless to say, his tribe would not welcome him back with open arms.
Fik ran, and stowed away on the nearest ship, which happened to be sailing towards Absalom. Onboard he realized he could get away with anything, provided he didn’t get seen. This mostly manifested in stealing food from the galley, and small trinkets from passengers and crew, since he was beginning to re-think his views on other races and thought that outright slaughter wouldn’t ingratiate him with his hosts. Just before the ship reached Absalom, however, he was discovered. The crew treated him fairly: he was thrown into the ocean. Luckily for Fik, he washed up near one of the sewer outflows, and was provided an easy access point into the city. Using the sewers as a home and a source of food, Fik quickly established himself underground as an authority on the sewer ecology, and became ‘the goblin to go to if you needed something done in the sewer with, no questions asked, except for possibly something kind of ridiculous, but you shouldn’t mind that, he’ll take the job anyways’. Or at least that is what he put on his business cards. He also adopted the nickname that was given to him by some of Absalom’s more unsavory types: “One Eared” Fik.
Fik has been biding his time, attempting to acquire money and power, and gain the funds and skills to achieve his ultimate goal: to kill all goblins.