Hite Eade is a 5ft tall 16-year-old geldern of the goblin variety and as such possesses wonderfully huge bendy ears and grubby grey-green skin. For one whose name literally translates to ‘bright day’ Hite isn’t particularly smart. Evident in the many scars he bears his choices lean more towards the way his name sounds, ergo ‘hit it with head,’ and see what happens. Also he stinks like a field smeared in cow dung, which bodes for an eye-watering interview wherein most of our employees try to avoid breathing.
The only thing slick about Hite is his hair, a lank greasy mop of black threads that he is obviously proud enough of to protect with a leather headscarf. Usually we would ask interviewees to remove headgear whilst sitting for a portrait but in this instance we fear what might be growing beneath the feted leather and decide it’s more than our stomachs can take.
If it looks like Hite is wearing sackcloth that’s probably because he is. Clothes aren’t especially high on is priority list nor are they to anyone emerging from the grotesque quagmire that is Vidul. We gather that Hite is unaware of how foul he smells which indicates his nose must be broken in more places than we can see. Still by all rights, with his strong jawline and bright eyes Hite is quite pretty for a young goblin.
The word, ‘geldern’ as I am sure those of you don’t know are wondering, refers to those species that were once called greenskins. In informal circles, particularly in greenskin circles, the four species encompassed under this label are still dubbed as greenskins. However the politically correct brigade marched on the fact that no group should be labelled by the colour of their skin and henceforth the name geldern was coined. This new name translates to ‘bold tribe,’ which is nice we’re sure for the two ‘geldern’ who actually cared enough to rally for the change.
The geldern then, are the only sub-group within the mythic genus known to age like regular men. All four species (that’s goblins, ogres, orcs and trolls) have an expected average lifespan of around 80 years. Like many of the anthropomorphic species the geldern age quickly in their younger years, yet unlike the aforementioned anthro’s, this rapid aging seems to taper off and balance out in their late teens and early twenties. Therefore the visual difference in age between twelve and thirty year olds isn’t always apparent. Blessed too with increased physical strength from the outset, members of these four species tend to fit well in jobs requiring heavy labour and muscle.
That isn’t to say that there aren’t geldern busy growing flowers and reciting poetry, quite the contrary. More simply most find themselves doing stereotypical hard graft work in between braiding each other’s scant strands of hair because if there’s one thing society likes it’s fulfilling a stereotype whilst bleating loudly about being politically correct.
Now Hite is the cocky sort, prone to charging headlong into confrontation with little thought to the outcome. At the same time he isn’t the most confident of fellows, he idolises his peers and wrongly believes that their adoration can be won if he gets into enough scrapes on their behalf. The problem is, no-one ever asks Hite to jump in to defend them and more often than not he antagonises situations through his desperate need to be admired. At present, Hite tells us the person he looks up to most is Lester Wye, a concept we find both unnerving and endearing. It’s bad enough after all if your current goal in life is to be as suave as the mailman and even worse if that mailman happens to be the ever-clumsy loveable dolt Lester whom everyone but you thinks is a prized twerp.
So where does that leave Hite on the scale of simple-mindedness? Probably not far from the gutter he crawled out of, still at least wanting to be someone like kind-hearted Lester is better than wanting to be like cut-throat Xio or one of the many other unsavoury characters lurking in Vidul. We think perhaps Hite is sorely lacking in friends his own age, therefore anyone, even thick skulled Lester probably seems like a promising bet.
Also Hite doesn’t really appear to be good at anything other than collecting scars. Usually in the wrong place between someone’s fist and a wall Hite doesn’t admit to having any actual life goals or hobbies. He’s interested enough in the world around him, yet we suspect not a great deal can be gleaned whilst tinkering with pipes in a place that resembles a festering sewerage system before you even get beneath the soil.
By trade he is a plumber of sorts, skills handed down from his father. He is employed as part of the skeletal maintenance crew that keep Vidul semi-operable when anyone can be bothered to actually do the work. Unpleasant jobs such as this are often passed down to younger members of the tunnel’s so-called community and cited, ‘as a privilege,’ as Hite proudly chimes, because most of the little brats don’t know any better and those that do aren’t high enough up the pecking order to complain.
Even if Hite did have the smarts to realise his elders are taking him for a ride he’d probably deal with it in another easily blindsided tantrum which makes us feel a touch sorry for the stinky lad. Not sorry enough to shake his hand as he exits or enough to say we found his company particularly pleasant.
Thus if we here at Black Wednesday’s have learnt anything from this meeting at all, it’s that we won’t be offering to braid Hite’s hair any time soon.