Tsuki Netveil

Tsuki Netveil has always stood out, even among Goblins. Loud, quick, and wiry, she has an unusually humanoid face and features, though the rest of her appearance is unmistakably Goblin. Her clothes are a patchwork of rags, leather scraps, and scavenged materials, decorated with copper fittings, brass bits, and whatever else she has decided might look better attached to her than left in a rubbish heap. Her bags rattle with tools, spare parts, curious trinkets, and inventions of varying degrees of functionality.

People sometimes speculate about her unusual appearance. A few whisper that she might have Hyur ancestry, though nobody knows anything certain about her mother, least of all Tsuki herself. Tsuki has learned that people are much more interested in a mystery when they think it might come with a discount.

“Strange face? Rare face! Very collectible. You want one? No, no, cannot sell face. Already using it. But Tsuki can sell this rare kettle!”

She is clever, curious, and almost impossible to discourage. If something is broken, Tsuki wants to know why. If something works, she wants to know whether it could work better. If something has been thrown away, she sees either a valuable resource or a future customer who has not yet realized what they are missing.

Usually Both.

Tsuki was born twenty-one years ago among a nomadic Goblin tribe. Her mother died during childbirth, leaving her father, Sprockix Netveil, to raise her alone. Sprockix was a skilled armorsmith, known for his steady hands, practical knowledge, and considerable patience. He would need all three.

As a child, Tsuki was forever taking things apart. Buckles, hinges, cooking implements, tools, and the occasional object that was very much not hers all fell victim to her curiosity. Her father taught her how things were made, how materials behaved, and why a good craftsman should understand a tool before trusting it.

Tsuki listened carefully. She simply had her own ideas about what to do with the information.

Her earliest inventions were unpredictable. Some worked beautifully. Others made alarming noises, leaked strange fluids, or produced results that were technically correct but not especially useful. One contraption allegedly managed to open a locked box by destroying the box. Tsuki considered this a promising first attempt.

“Box was locked. Now box is open! You see? Problem solved. Little bit of box missing, yes, but nobody needs all that box.”

Sprockix encouraged her ingenuity, though he sometimes wondered whether teaching his daughter to use tools had been a mistake. He loved her dearly, even when she came home carrying something that smoked, dripped hazardous liquid, or had acquired an unpleasant smell.

Tsuki occasionally asked about her mother. Her father never offered much of an answer, and the rest of the tribe seemed equally reluctant to discuss the subject. Eventually, Tsuki learned to stop asking aloud, though her curiosity never quite went away. She has no name to search for, no clear story to follow, and no certainty about where she came from beyond the tribe who raised her.

For now, she has decided that there are plenty of other mysteries in the world, and most of them can be investigated without making her father uncomfortable.

Besides, there are also customers to annoy and collect gil from

At fourteen, Tsuki began venturing into nearby settlements to trade goods and information. At first, she mostly carried whatever her tribe could spare: tools, salvaged materials, handmade odds and ends, and small pieces of her father's work. She quickly discovered that trading was almost as interesting as tinkering.

People could be persuaded to buy the strangest things, provided the seller spoke confidently enough.

Tsuki took this lesson to heart.

A bent piece of metal became a “multi-purpose fastening component.” A collection of mismatched screws became a “premium mechanical starter assortment.” A device that had never successfully done what it was built for became an “experimental model, priced for the adventurous customer.”

Her business grew, though not every customer was entirely pleased with their purchases.

“Ah, you came back for Tsuki! Wonderful! Tsuki’s machine did not work? Hm. Did you try turning it upside down? No? Very important must do! A flip needed for upside-down machines.”

Despite her questionable methods, Tsuki was good at what she did. She learned to recognize useful materials, judge what people needed, and spot an opportunity from across a crowded market. She also learned when a customer genuinely needed help rather than a sales pitch. If someone was short on coin but needed a tool repaired, she could usually find a way to help.

She might grumble about the lost profit afterward, but she would still do it.

After all, a good reputation was worth something. And a grateful customer might eventually become a well-paying customer.

Possibly.

When Tsuki was sixteen, her people returned to Eorzea following their Great Pilgrimage. The journey was part of the Goblins' old traditions, and their long absence had left plenty of questions among those who remembered them. By the time Tsuki and her tribe returned, the details of where they had been and what they had done had become a muddle of half-told stories, missing details, and arguments over who remembered things correctly.

Tsuki was not especially helpful when asked.

“Big journey! Long journey! Many places. Many things. Very little sleep. Somebody packed the wrong cooking pot, and Tsuki is still angry about it.”

Whatever the pilgrimage meant to the tribe as a whole, Tsuki remembered it as a mixture of strange sights, hard travel, useful discoveries, and a great many opportunities to take notes. She collected scraps, examined unfamiliar mechanisms, and made observations that were either brilliant or entirely irrelevant.

Sometimes both.

After their return, the Goblins settled in and around Idyllshire, where Sharlayan ruins, adventurers, treasure hunters, and curious merchants offered no shortage of things to investigate. For Tsuki, it was an ideal place to improve her craft and find new customers. There were always things to repair, things to sell, and things that probably should not have been touched in the first place.

Still, she had already caught the travel bug. Settling down did not mean staying put, especially when the wider world was full of people who had never heard of her wares.

An untapped market, as Tsuki liked to think, was simply a market that had not yet been properly introduced to her inventions.

Once her people had settled, Tsuki began traveling farther afield. She visited the great city-states, carrying her inventions, trading supplies, and gathering information wherever she went. Every place had something different to offer: unusual materials, unfamiliar techniques, new customers, and fresh opportunities to get herself into trouble.

Ul'dah quickly became her favorite destination. Its bustling markets and endless stream of merchants suited her perfectly. There, a clever trader could find almost anything, and a clever enough Goblin could sell almost anything, too.

Tsuki studied the wares of other craftspeople, learned which materials were worth their weight in gil, and improved her skills through a combination of experimentation and occasional disaster. Her inventions became more dependable, though her definition of dependable remained somewhat flexible.

A device that worked nine times out of ten was excellent. A device that worked seven times out of ten was still promising. A device that worked only once was, naturally, a rare prototype whose full potential had yet to be unlocked.

“Good news! Improved design! New model has less moving parts!”

She paused, looking at the smoking mechanism in her hands.

“Less moving parts that still attached, anyway...”

Her reputation began to spread. Some knew her as a resourceful tinkerer who could fix an awkward problem with a handful of scrap and an alarming amount of confidence. Others knew her as the merchant who could talk a person into buying something they had not known they wanted, then somehow make them feel pleased about it.

Tsuki considered both descriptions complimentary.

Yet her travels were not only about money. She enjoyed meeting people, discovering unfamiliar places, and learning how others lived. She was mischievous by nature, but not cruel. She liked a good prank, especially one that left everyone laughing afterward, and she was quick to lend a hand when someone was genuinely in trouble.

There were limits to her bargaining, after all.

“Tsuki may sell you questionable kettle. Tsuki may sell you very questionable kettle. Tsuki will not sell you kettle that goes boom in your hand and make hurt. That is terrible business practice!”

Now twenty-one, Tsuki spends much of her time traveling throughout Eorzea, following rumors, seeking rare materials, making deals, and tinkering with whatever has caught her attention. Her packs are crowded with tools, spare parts, unfinished projects, and merchandise she insists is organized according to a system nobody else understands.

Her inventions range from genuinely useful tools to contraptions whose purpose is difficult to explain even to their creator. She sells both with equal enthusiasm

Some customers seek her out because she is clever and resourceful. Others approach her because they have heard she can find unusual goods. A few come looking for refunds.

Tsuki tries to run away from that last group.

She is still quick-witted, curious, and fond of mischief. She can turn a conversation into a sales pitch before most people realize one has begun, and she has a talent for making a dubious idea sound like the beginning of a grand opportunity. Yet beneath all the chatter and cheek is someone who cares about the people she meets. She will risk her own safety to help someone in danger, even if doing so costs her time, money, or a perfectly good escape route.

When things become serious, the salesman's grin gives way to a sharper sort of focus. Tsuki may be reckless, but she is not heartless. She knows when a joke has gone too far, when a bargain is unfair, and when someone needs help more than she needs a profit.

She still wonders about her mother from time to time. The unanswered questions remain, as does the possibility that there is more to her family history than she knows. But Tsuki has never been one to wait around for answers to come knocking. If the truth is out there, she may find it one day.

In the meantime, she has a business to run.

“Tsuki Netveil! Finest tinkering, finest trading, finest selection of things you not know you needed ’til just now! Prices reasonable, warranties flexible, instructions mostly easy to follow!”

She holds up a small metal contraption. It clicks, whirs, and emits a thin curl of smoke.

“Ah. This one still thinking. Give it a moment...”

The device springs apart in her hands.

Tsuki studies the scattered pieces, then looks back at her customer with a bright smile.

“Good news! Easy to repair. Special deal! You buy schematic now, Tsuki throws in all pieces for free!”

And somehow, against all reason, she makes a sale.

After all, one man's rubbish is Goblin's fortune. Tsuki Netveil intends to prove it, one questionable sale at a time. Edited by Tsuki