A compact, broad-shouldered goblin with deep olive-green skin, a blunt nose, large amber eyes, and uneven tusk-like teeth. His ears are pierced with small copper rings, and a faded military scarf is wrapped around his neck. He wears scuffed leather armor beneath a patched soldier's coat, carries a shortbow and spear, and keeps two daggers hidden where his sleeves meet his wrists.

Sheshin is alert, dryly funny, and fiercely protective of anyone being ignored or pushed aside. He dislikes grand speeches but respects practical courage. He treats every locked door as a personal challenge and every large creature as a potential ambush until proven otherwise.

Sheshin was born in a goblin camp that followed the retreating edge of an army, scavenging abandoned wagons and learning to tell military orders from battle cries before he could read. When a border garrison was attacked by raiders, the goblins were blamed for the deaths. Sheshin was captured, but instead of being executed, he was pressed into service as a runner and camp hand. He proved unnervingly good at slipping through locked gates, crossing battlefields unseen, and carrying messages through ground where larger soldiers could not go. An old sergeant taught him that courage was not the absence of fear, but choosing who to protect while afraid. Years later, Sheshin deserted after discovering that his officers had ordered a village burned to conceal a failed ambush. He stole a set of tools, a shortbow, and enough supplies to survive, then vanished into the roads. Now he works as a scout, courier, and occasional thief, taking contracts that put food in his pack and harm in the path of people who prey on the helpless. He still drills every morning, though he replaces formal commands with whispered goblin counting songs. He wants to prove that a goblin can be more than a disposable blade, while secretly fearing that violence is the only thing he is truly good at.