Pahn

monstrous
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Online Availability
Anytime, I have no life.
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Douche
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Nonbinary
  3. Transgender
  4. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
Fantasy, romance, slice of life, anti-hero stories, "you're our only hope", fandom non-canons, soft scifi, transhumanism, magical girls, horror, suspense / mystery, detective noir, fractured fairytales
tarieles-rp-banner.png

Nothing You Could Do;East Sea Dokdo;Actor;

Links & Character Roster​
When the Waves Come Crashing


Interest Check
In Character
Discord Server

Laws of the Realm
Character Sheet
Oshanlenor, A Pirate's Haven
World Lore: Islamyria (Optional)
World Lore: Farenthaes (Optional)

Shipmates - Alive

Figsi "Fig" Skelder - @Holmishire - Rigger / Boatswain's Mate
Ophelia Eonslight - @Turtle of Doom - Rigger/Boatswain
Meandin "Mea" Sharo - @Tarieles - Apprentice Cook
Sagus Faust - @Jays - Surgeon
Rudesind "Rude" Pyr - @Nemopedia - Pilot
Ayameri Astari - @Greenie - Carpenter
Noshad Amer - @SkittlesAndSpike - Boatswain
Rán - @Applo - Striker

Shipmates - MIA

Name - Player - Role

Shipmates - Deceased

Name - Player - Role
 
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Nothing You Could Do;East Sea Dokdo;Actor;

Laws of the Realm​
When the Waves Come Crashing

Welcome to my roleplay! There are a few rules I would like everyone to read before we get to the juicier stuff. Anyone finding themselves not following those rules risks getting kicked out of the roleplay and their character thrown overboard!

One
This shouldn't need to be stated, but here it is anyway. All Iwaku rules of course apply. This is not a redstar roleplay, but mature themes will be present and if you are not comfortable with that, this is probably not a roleplay for you.

Two
This roleplay is open signups, which means anyone can apply. However, I fully reserve myself the right to refuse anyone for any reason I see fit. There are a total of 8 spots open, and I will be selecting characters based on multiple factors: character sheet quality, posting history, and reliability. Nothing kills a roleplay faster than a bunch of people who suddenly stop posting!

I may expand the cast in the future, but that is a thought for some other time. It is currently set at one character per player but that might change as well.

If I find myself with less than 8 character sheets that I find are good enough for the roleplay, I will not be going below the set standards to accept them. The roleplay may start with less than 8 players.

Three
Posting Expectations: I expect everyone to be able to contribute to the story. This means at least two paragraphs per post. If you find yourself unsure what to post about, please let me know and we'll work something out! There will be a variety of NPCs to interact with.

Posting Speed: Once every two weeks. There will be GM posts to help move things along and there might be timeskips! Any player who goes a full month without posting (so that's 2 posting rounds missed) will find themselves removed from the roleplay. If you think you won't be able to post for a certain amount of time, please let me know! I know how life can get sometimes and I'm not that big of a dick either ;)

if you are unsure you can meet those expectations, please save me the awkwardness of having to run after you for a post and don't apply.

Four
As mentioned, there are 8 spots for this roleplay (excluding myself). Characters may fulfill a role presented in the character sheet description below, or take an entirely different role. I will be looking for the most compelling and interesting characters, so it won't be a first come first served. One character per player for the time being, but if you submit more than one character it basically gives you a second chance of being chosen.

Five
There won't be any "order" of posting, and you can certainly post more than once a round. Please keep other players in consideration though, and try to remain reasonable in the number of times you post. If you're in need of interacting with a character back and forth, please make use of collaborative posts.

Six
There is a lot of lore for this roleplay. You do NOT need to read the posts that say World Lore unless you are making a character from those nations. This is simply extra lore.

When the Waves Come Crashing is an alternate universe roleplay from the Pahnick Worlds, created by @Jorick and I for our own stories. He has given me permission to use his stuff freely, so thanks boo.

Another big thanks to @rissa my fav salt rainbow for making a map of Oshanlenor. (To come, here is a super super rough draft you can use as reference in the meantime)

Seven
You will have until June 22, end of day Iwaku server time to submit a character sheet. That is a LOT of time, so there will not be any extensions given. I will read and review sheets that are completed before that date, and will offer a 24-hour review window for anyone who submits at the last minute. If you find yourself unable to continue with the roleplay for whatever reason (you don't need to give me one), PLEASE let me know. I'm somewhat nice and I prefer 100% you be honest with me instead of leaving me out there to dry.

Eight
As you were probably able to tell, this is a pirate roleplay! The content tags are all there for a reason, and so to avoid spoilers I won't be divulging everything just yet. However, this is probably not your conventional pirate roleplay. I will not be changing the lore or anything in the setting so that your character fits in. This is a medieval setting.

The lore post about Oshanlenor is a must-read. It contains a lot of information about, well, everything, and believe me that I will know if someone goofs and posts a character sheet without having read all the lore.

Nine
I want to clear this out right now: please stay away from shitty phonetic Hollywood pirate accents. "Arr matey" is garbage and no one talks like that 8D Characters can have accents, sure, and speech patterns - but please no dumb "arrr" nonsense. The setting is 100% fantasy. You can give your characters accents but think to yourself, "Would this be appropriate in a D&D game?" if the answer is no, then, well, you have your answer.

Ten
Whenever you see the following banner, this means it is a GM post and things will be moved along:

wtwcc-banner.png


There will be GMPCs for you to interact with as well, so some of my posts won't necessarily be a GM post.

Eleven
I strongly suggest you join the Discord server to discuss characters and plot amongst yourselves, for those of you who haven't already. Non-accepted players are welcomed to stay, but if it becomes an issue they will be removed without warning.

Overall, I fully expect everyone to remain respectful and mature. If someone has an issue with a player, please let me know and we'll work together to resolve the issue.

You can post questions in this thread as well if you prefer!

Discord link
 
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Nothing You Could Do;East Sea Dokdo;Actor;

Character Sheet​
When the Waves Come Crashing

Preamble
In terms of characters, I'm leaving things pretty open. You will want to read the post Oshanlenor, A Pirate's Haven before jumping right into character creation. If you want to make a character from another nation in Aswenor, there are two posts with additional lore (Islamyria and Farenthaes), but you can also just make up a place from elsewhere and unless it really doesn't fit with the established universe, I'm likely to accept it.

Even though this is a pirate roleplay, I would like you to shed away preconceived ideas of what a pirate is. This is a fantasy setting and pirates aren't what you've seen in Pirates of the Caribbean or other Hollywood movies. They are a bit more closely based on what real-life pirates were, but not quite. I do not want any "yarr matey" nonsense and I will only consider serious characters. You can definitely make a goofy pirate; what I mean is that goofy submissions are most likely not going to be accepted.

Basics
Name: Full name, nickname, fake name, whatever your character goes by.

Race: See the Oshanlenor, A Pirate's Haven post for more information. If there is a race you wish to play and it's not listed, please ask me ahead of time before delving too deep into your character creation.

Sex/Gender: What's in their pants / how they present as

Age: age ranges depend on the race, see the Races section

Appearance: Image or description or both. Absolutely no anime style images. I'm not fond of real-people images for fantasy RP, so it will have to be art. If you are ending up having difficulty finding an image, let me know and I'll help you sift through. Always credit the artist of the art you use.

In-Depth: Roles
Role: Here is a list of roles you can choose from. The ideal would be to discuss amongst yourselves or ask me if a role has already been claimed - I would hate to see three awesome sheets with the same role.
The role descriptions have been taken from this site so credit to them for that. Most of the descriptions haven't been very altered from their source, so if you copy-paste them onto your CS, please credit the website linked above!

Boatswain: In charge of a ship's anchors, cordage, colors, deck crew and the ship's boats, and would also be in charge of the rigging while the ship was in dock.

Cabin Boy: The cabin boy will run messages and errands for the officers, prepare their uniforms, perhaps even fetches their dinner. Because he is an apprentice of sorts, he is also expected to learn all aspects of the maritime trade.

Gunner: Gunners were skilled men who aimed the guns on a ship. In some instances a master gunner would give orders to other gunners on how to set their guns during a broadside. Since there are no actual guns or gunpowder technology, those are replaced by ballistae.

Pilot: he man at the helm. The helmsman. The pilot was the man who steered the ship. Typically one man would be the master pilot who would work with the navigator and captain to pilot the ship over the water. The pilot needed to know such aspects as the ship's draught (how deep she sat in the water) how wide the ship was and how sharply she could turn. In shallow waters, the crew would take soundings (checking the depth of the water) and it would be up to the pilot to either steer the ship or sometimes stand at the bow and relay orders back to the man at the helm which way to steer the ship.
*for anyone deciding on this role, you will already begin as a part of the Burnt Hands crew.

Sea Artist: The sea artist was expert at reading and correcting charts, using navigational tools such as the cross-staff, backstaff, quadrant, and sextant. Also called Navigator.

Striker: They were expert hunters who fished for sharks and other large fish; and also hunted wild game when the the crew came ashore. Their knowledge of local plants aided in collecting edible fruits and vegetables as well as medicinal plants and herbs.

Surgeon: Surgeons were amongst the most valuable members of the crew. They are highly skilled and have undergone medical training. They served both as consulting doctors and acting surgeons (i.e. to amputate limbs and the like).

Master(s): The term used to describe a leader of certain section. Thus the master gunner is the person in charge of the guns (artillery), the Master Rigger would be in charge of fixing the ships rigging, a Master carpenter, would be the top carpenter.


Roles taken by GMPC/GMNPC: Master Carpenter, Captain, Quartermaster, First Mate. See the link above for a description of those roles.

In-Depth: Skills
Since this is an adventuring roleplay, it'll be important for me to have a good knowledge of your character's strength and weaknesses. They must absolutely be balanced or have more weaknesses.

Strengths: 2 or more things your character is better than average at. It must be something that I the GM can use, so personality traits will belong in the Bio section.

Weaknesses: 2 or more things your character is worse than average at doing. Once again personality traits will belong in the Bio. Think of something that might require me to roll a dice to see if it failed or succeeded. If you're unsure what to put here, let me know and we'll work on it together.

In-Depth: Biography
There doesn't need to be a whole lot here! Just 1-2 paragraphs minimum. Make it interesting.

There are only a few things that are mandatory to include: the motivation for your character wanting to go on this adventure, how they became a pirate with their role, and how they even ended up on Oshanlenor.

If your character favours any deities, you can mention it here. Anything magic-related will need to be approved by me first though.

Hex colour: That's perhaps the only thing I'm gonna be a bit annoying about - characters must have their own coloured dialogue. Please please please use this guide to pick a colour from so that it shows up nicely on all themes.



I believe this is all. You can format your sheet however fancy you want, but make sure it is mobile friendly. You can post it here or send it to me by PM for review if you are a little shy.
If you get a Like on your sheet, this means I've read it and don't think it needs any changes. It does not mean the character has been accepted!

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[b]Role:[/b]

[b]Strengths:[/b]
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Nothing You Could Do;East Sea Dokdo;Actor;

Oshanlenor, A Pirate's Haven​
When the Waves Come Crashing

Aswenor's Forgotten Island
Twelve hundred years ago, the first dark elven tribe settled in what is now the Farenthaes kingdom on the Aswenor continent. Their territory spread until nearly half the continent was under their rule, but they lacked any kind of naval resources to conquer anything out at sea. Centuries later, the kingdom of Islamyria was founded and as they attempted to own every island off the shores of Aswenor, only one prevailed against the Islamyrian pirates: Oshanlenor.

One might find old, bug-eaten records of the mysterious island in the royal libraries of Farenthaes detailing the history of Oshanlenor. Discontent with their life in the matriarchal tribes of the new-found kingdom, a handful of dark elves took off to find themselves a new place to live, far away from the iron grip of the Farenthaes queen.

It is not really known how they managed to cross the ocean to search for a place to call home, but reports flew in within the next few years and Oshanlenor was officially declared a nation in the year 950. Standing against everything Farenthaes represented (a matriarchal system, royalty, nobility) the leaders of the island vowed to stray away from that at any cost. Thus any religious devotion to Hisani was outlawed for many years, and Qwint, Goddess of Justice and Mercy, became the main deity worthy of worship.

While all of this appeared nice in theory, disagreements were frequent and nothing ever got done, leaving the districts scrambling for self-sustenance without the resources to truly succeed. By the 1090s, the island had become so vulnerable that pirates and pillagers ravaged the districts frequently and no one felt safe anywhere. It is perhaps why so many Oshanlenorins hesitate still today to speak ill of the one who now rules over them.

When everyone felt like things couldn't possibly get worse, Kraymer Fardi set his sights on the weak and chaotic island. While it was not difficult to get through the gates that protected the elected rulers of Oshanlenor, Kraymer and his crew of privateers found no resistance from the locals. The elf, a rather young one at that, was said to be radiating power. Magical or not, there are no sources that can confirm either, at least not reliable ones. Overnight, the elected rulers were assassinated and their families placed on a ship to Farenthaes, to be returned to "their mother".

Self-proclaimed king of Oshanlenor, Kraymer did very little to better the lives of the islanders, but his reputation was so widespread that it served to ward off most of the adventurous pillagers. In the first years of his reign, there were many incidents that could only be explained by the possibility of the elf being graced with magical abilities. Those who did dare go against him found themselves filled with terror after a single confrontation.

Save the Date
This year marks the two-hundredth anniversary of Kraymer's rule. A big celebration is planned at the end of the month of Palno. The king plans on making some kind of announcement, but no one, not even his closest friends or advisors, knows what this will be about.

In a crass tavern in Mirgho's Harbor, a certain captain plots with his crew. Days later recruitment posters are plastered throughout the island in all six districts. The promise of gold and treasures is sure to grab the attention of many, which is exactly what the captain of the Burnt Hands hopes for.

A few hours before midnight on the last day of the month of Likun, a brown-skinned female elf waits on the docks, eyes piercing through the dark in search of the newly hired crew members...

Lore: Oshanlenor


  • Climate
    Humid subtropical.

    Weather
    Due to its location between Farenthaes and Islamyria, Oshanlenor experiences hot and humid weather with short but frigid winters.

    Flora
    Due to more than half the island sharing one long steep coast, there are a lot of trees and lush vegetation on the outer edges of the island, mainly North, West, and North-East. The Southern coast is sprinkled with beaches and marinas, and the East coast is mainly dry grasslands.

    Fauna
    All kinds of animals can be found on Oshanlenor, from reptiles like lizards and salt-water crocodiles, to bears, wolves, deer, and other game animals in the forests. Further in the sea, there have been reports of sea serpents and other monsters that could possibly swallow a ship whole.


  • Type of Government
    Dictatorship.

    Ruler
    King Kraymer Fardi (self-proclaimed)

    Power Structure
    King Kraymer seized power over 100 years ago and has been holding onto it with an iron grip. There are no proper governmental structures, and it is only with his handful of closest advisors than the king makes his decisions. He changes laws and regulations on a whim at times, and no one dares dispute him. There are no noble families, only people who've gained the king's favor over the years and have been given random pieces of land from which they were allowed to profit. Slavery runs rampant in nearly every district and is entirely legal.

    Laws
    The only crimes punishable by law are murder, treason to the king, and theft. The latter comes with a bunch of exceptions and contradictions, and in truth it depends on how those who enforce the law feel. One might cheat another person and steal, and if the law enforcer deems it fair or acceptable, there is no punishment. It is very chaotic. Punishments are meted out at the discretion of the captains of the city guard. Death penalty is typically reserved for murders and traitors, while jail time is for anything a captain decides is fit for an arrest.

    Law Enforcement
    There is a city guard which consists of regular guards and lead by guard captains. The captains have been chosen by the king or his advisors, and they in turn hire the regular guards. The pay is decent but it barely compensates for the dangerous situations the guards often find themselves in. Xennid is the most heavily guarded, followed by Keelibral, Wreaft Row, and Mirgho's Harbor. The wealthy residents of Wreaft Row often grease the guards' hands for various reasons, while those who are placed to work in Keelibral are offered a rather higher pay since they are in charge of protecting the crops and such.

    Corruption
    Everyone and everything is corrupted. Everyone can be bought with a bribe, and sometimes not offering a bribe for a regular service (like escorting a merchant with important merchandise) can bring negative consequences for taking the service for granted.


  • General Tech Level
    Generic medieval, with some advances in terms of naval technology. There are no schools, and advanced knowledge of inventions and such is often only available to those with enough coin. Apprenticeships are the only ways for anyone to learn a trade.

    Weaponry
    Generic medieval. Ballistae are mounted on stone walls surrounding Wreaft Row and Keelibral districts and most guards know how to use them efficiently. Steel is common enough but expensive, and gunpowder has not yet been discovered, which means no guns or cannons or explosives.

    Medicine
    Healers are common enough, though they tend towards more “natural” ways of mending wounds and sicknesses. Herbs and potions are at the center of their craft, and some alchemists are renowned for their highly effective lotions and elixirs. There is quite a bit of experimentation going on without any kind of supervision going on, and blackmarket alchemists are extremely common.


  • Availability
    Magic is rare but definitely exists. It is said that the king is the strongest magic user of Oshanlenor, touched by Nazork the God of Magic himself. When he proclaimed himself king of Oshanlenor, his first action was to cleanse the island of all its mages. Anyone born on the island in the last century may have some inkling of magic, but it is so weak that most never even notice it.

    Capabilities
    There is no proper documentation on magic. The most common form of it is through divine touch, which comes from a God or Goddess as a favour. Priests and priestesses have formed their own churches based on magic and claim being their god's favourite; they are often bound by their devotion and cannot offer magical feats to non-believers.

    Magical items are much more common. They are not catalogued and one cannot always verify its veracity before purchase, however.


Races

Since Oshanlenor is an independent island within the Aswenor continent, the most common races are those found in high density on the main land. There are frequent ships that sail to foreign lands, however, which contributes to a larger mix of races than in Farenthaes and Islamyria.


  • One of the most common races on Oshanlenor. King Kraymer himself is an elf. They come in different subraces as well, from high elves with pale skin and dark hair, to wood elves with darker skin and hair, to dark elves otherwise known as drows, to elves that are not native to Aswenor. Farenthaes is home to the dark elves, so there is certainly a larger number of them in Oshanlenor. All elves can live up to 200-300 years of age and mature around 30.


  • Second most common race. Most tieflings are descendants of the mighty pirates that roamed Islamyria for centuries, and no one knows where they come from exactly. They age and mature just like humans, and come in varied physical appearances from dark red skin to grey, and their most distinct features are certainly their tail and horns. The tail is usual thin and almost like a wimpy third hand, situated at the same place as the human tailbone. Their ears are pointy and stand out like an elf's.

  • While humans are common, they are rarely ever in any positions of power. Slaves are more often than not humans. They come with many different physical traits. It is said that humans once populated all of Oshanlenor, but that hasn't been the case of at least three centuries. Nowadays most humans come from the unruly villages in Islamyria or from someplace other than Aswenor. They are largely regarded as a subpar race.

  • Dwarves are extremely rare. They hail from the Krowehk Mountains in the Aswenor mainland, and most of them will be merchants who've decided to remain over the years. They reach their physical maturity at a similar speed as humans, but live to be up to 200 years old.

  • Even rarer than dwarves are aasimars. They are typically pale of skin with bright hair, blonde and almost white, with otherwise human-like characteristics. It is said that aasimars are in fact blessed by the Goddess of Fertility, Hisani, but those claims are unfounded. They have the same life expectancy as humans, but as a race they are looked down upon and often enslaved as pleasure entertainers. They live short and harsh lives.

  • Half-elves and even half-tieflings are not all that uncommon, but due to the stigma of being a half-breed they are often unwelcomed on the main continent, and many have found the harsh life in Oshanlenor to be a relief from the constant ostracization felt in Farenthaes and Islamyria.

  • Other races hail from non-Aswenor locations. Gnomes and halflings are known to come from a land at the far west across the ocean from Aswenor and are found mainly on merchant ships as traders. Orcs and goblins are extremely rare and their population is most definitely under three digits across all of Aswenor.


Districts

Oshanlenor is approximately 85 square miles (220 square kilometres) and is divided in six districts. The population is mainly concentrated in three districts, but it is not uncommon to find people living in the middle of the forest and such. The population sits around 25k, with elves and tieflings as the most common races.


  • Extremely densely populated, the harbor is where most merchants and poor folks live. There are multiple slave pits and little amphitheatres. The buildings are made of rough stones and wood, and it is not rare for fires to ravage entire streets at a time during summer. There is a functioning sewage system, but it has not been properly maintained for quite some time and with the population density, it cannot sustain the heavy daily usage. There is a permanent stench of sewage, smoke, and sweat that permeates the air in the harbor. The only relief is its location close to the sea. There are a handful of marinas and ports.

  • King Kraymer's 'castle' is situated here. It is just a few miles away from Mirgho's Harbor, away from the stench. Most buildings are made of stone, but most of them are uninhabited. The castle itself is rather modest, only two stories high but with a much more impressive dungeon. Xennid's Colloseum is famous for its gladiator-like battles that the king himself hosts. Any slave who enters the Xennid district is rarely known to ever come out of it alive.

  • Most of the nice beaches are found here. A handful of the king's favourites live there and have lots of land that they may rent to those with enough coin. It is perhaps the nicest part of Oshanlenor, and even though the king doesn't live in Wreaft Row himself, some most of the rich islanders live here. Houses are built with nice bricks and wealthy merchants have set permanent shops here.

  • Situated in the western side of the island, Keelibral is another area where the king gave lands to his friends. Since those lands are extremely fertile, most of the land-owners employ common-folk or slaves to work the fields for harvesting. Guards and even private hired swords are frequently seen patrolling the fields to ensure their preservation and protect them against vandals. The relatively wealthy live here, though there is a small portion of the district reserved for housing those who work the fields. Since it is a seasonal job, the winter almost makes it a ghost town.

  • The dry grasslands of Oshanlenor are at the Eastern coast of the island. There is a small mountain closer inland that marks the outline of the vale, but it is quite a deadly climb with its steep edges and unstable pathways. It appears that some have dug into the mountain itself and live in the caves there, but it is a very risky place to be with its frequent rock falls.

  • The Northernmost part of the island is a lush forest with a wide variety of animals. Not many folks live here, but random groups of people who want to escape the harbor and the oppression of other districts live here in the wilderness. There are no roads, but one can possibly find beaten paths between the trees.


Deities
While there is very little organized religion in Oshanlenor, there are many deities that have survived through folk tales and culture heritage, mainly in the way months and days of the week are named. Superstitious belief in the gods is pretty common - like invoking the goddess of fertility during a marriage ceremony, asking for a blessing from the god of storms before embarking on a naval expedition, etc. There are of course some who are very faithful to one or multiple gods, and the only widely known magic users are in fact those faithfuls.


  • Gods and goddesses are attributed multiple similar domains. It is said that they once roamed the land and ruled in peace, but those tend to be nothing more than folk tales.

  • Abathon
    Dark elf God of War, Sports, and Athleticism. Being King Kraymer's favourite deity, it is said that this is the reason why his personal sigil of a sword imitates Abathon's. His animal icon is a boar, which is what is served to eat at every major mock battle in the Colloseum to those who are about to fight.

    Batur*
    High elf god of Order and Righteousness. His animal icon is an eagle and his representation symbol is an arrowhead. Batur is the predominant deity in Islamyria, especially amongst the poor. They take comfort in the belief that their lives are exactly as Batur would have wanted, and that they will be rewarded in the afterlife.

    Hadaskin*
    Human god of Death. His animal icon is a crow and his representation symbol is a closed eye. Burial rites almost always invoke Hadaskin, and when a person is buried they have a white cloth wrapped around their head like a blindfold, with a single closed eye drawn on it. It is said that the presence of crows during a burial is Hadaskin waiting to collect the deceased's soul.

    Hisani*
    Dark elf goddess of Fertility and Agriculture. Her animal icon is a pig and her representation symbol is a circle with three wavy vertical lines. She is the predominant deity in Farenthaes, and most marriage ceremonies invoke Hisani for a fruitful union. Hisani favours females, so there are no priests who can claim to have magical abilities thanks to her. Priestesses representing Hisani can be seen roaming around Keelibral, blessing the crops during harvest season.

    Likun*
    Human goddess of Chaos and Humour. Her animal icon is a cat and her representation symbol are two triangles, one upright and one downright without the tips touching. Mischievous children are often said to have been favoured by Likun herself. She favours pranksters and is often associated with the God of Arts. Since Likun is the polar opposite of Baltur, god of order and righteousness, fighting lovers are frequently compared to a "Likun and Batur pairing".

    Nazork
    High elf God of Magic, Nature, and Rebirth. Sharing similarities with Hisani Goddess of Fertility and Agriculture, Nazork is said to be her male counterpart and that together they once ruled over all of Aswenor. Even their holy symbols are similar, with Nazork's being a sun. Wolves are often depicted as being creatures of magic and worshippers wear their furs, claiming it makes their own magic stronger.

    Occa
    Tiefling Goddess of Love and Beauty. Reputed for being incredibly beautiful herself, Occa is said to be deadly jealous of the most beautiful mortals who've found true love. Those who worship her proudly bear her holy symbol of a heart wearing a burning crown, and their chants and scriptures often tell the stories of how Occa has disfigured those were graced with great beauty once they found their soulmate. During wedding celebrations, it is common to serve doe meat as a main course in honor of Occa, and everyone except the bride and groom are expected to eat their share.

    Palno
    Tiefling God of Arts and Celebrations. Perhaps the most appreciated deity, Palno is very much loved by all sorts of folks. The most successful artists and artisans claim to have been blessed by him. It is also common for him to be represented on banners with his animal icon, butterflies, during any kind of celebration: from the king's nameday to simple drinking parties. Superstitious ale and wine brewers engrave his symbol of an eight-pointed star on barrels.

    Qwint
    Elf Goddess of Justice and Mercy. To no surprise, Qwint is often overshadowed by Batur, God of Order and Righteousness. The two are very different however, and those who worship Qwint proudly display her dragon icon as proof that she is the mightiest of both. It is said that Qwint was blind her entire life, but her sense of justice was so strong that she was able to discern falsehoods without fault. Her holy symbol is a set of balanced scales, although it can hardly be found anywhere on Oshanlenor.

    Shurnik
    Human God of Commerce and Wealth. While in most areas outside Oshanlenor Shurnik is a popular god, he is often blamed for financial misfortunes. After a particularly bad business venture, some merchants go as far as hanging dead and stuffed rabbits (Shurnik's animal icon) in their homes to show their displeasure with him. All coins, from copper to gold, have his holy symbol of a hollow circle above two smaller circles engraved on them.

    Valsa
    Elf Goddess of Wisdom, Literature, and Science. While her presence in Oshanlenor is very scarce, her holy symbol of an open book can be found on alchemists' and healers' shops. Valsa is said to be one of the oldest deities in Aswenor, and those who live much longer than average are said to have an owl watching over them, Valsa's animal icon.

    Zainth
    Tiefling God of Seas and Storms. Hailing from the old tales of mighty Islamyrian pirates, it was common to find Zainth's holy symbol of a wave engraved somewhere on a ship or stitched on the corner of a flag or sail. Many of those who roam the seas still pray to him, and it is considered extreme bad luck to kill (or find dead) a sea serpent, as it is Zainth's animal icon.

  • The current calendar system was conceived by the first Farenthaes scribes, twelve hundred years ago. The months are named after the gods and goddesses, and the days of the week similarly so.

    Days of the week:
    Occaras - Sunday
    Shurras - Monday
    Qwiras - Tuesday
    Abaras - Wednesday
    Zainras - Thursday
    Hisaras - Friday
    Hadras - Saturday

    Months of the year:
    Nazork - January
    Occa - February
    Batur - March
    Shurnik - April
    Likun - May
    Qwint - June
    Abathon - July
    Zainth - August
    Valsa - September
    Hisani - October
    Palno - November
    Hadaskin - December

    The roleplay begins on the last day of Likun, which would be written as:
    Zainras Likun's 31, 1295

    For convenience, the dates are on the same days as in 2018. So Friday June 1 2018 would be Hisaras Qwint's 1 1295.

 
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Nothing You Could Do;East Sea Dokdo;Actor;

World Lore: Islamyria​
When the Waves Come Crashing

History
Ancient historical accounts refer to "the island of Myria" being located exactly where the city of Islamyria resides today; this goes undoubted by those who know the tongue of the native tieflings because the name of the city translates to exactly that. Various tomes of history describe the land of the main peninsula rising from the sea slowly, over centuries, until it stopped being entirely flooded over in the hurricane season some four hundred years ago.

Back in the days of Myria the island, the people who lived there took to piracy and pillaging to make their living. Their little island home and the bits of land they could hold were not enough to sustain them, but cities and villages along the coast were ripe for the picking. Many coastal towns still use tales of the sea demons who come to snatch bad little boys and girls away to frighten children into obedience, but once upon a time those threats were all too close to the truth.

This route to prosperity stopped being viable as the land bridge to their city became usable for months at a time, allowing angry neighbors to lay siege to their home where once they had been safe across the water. Bargains were struck between Islamyria and these neighbors to leave their ships alone and to help them fight others farther away. Thus began the mercenary era of the city, starting about three hundred fifty years ago, which was nowhere near as lucrative as piracy but which came with the benefits of trade and diplomacy. During these years they seized the unclaimed peninsula to the north and added it to their dominion, quickly settling it with towns and villages that took advantage of the much more fertile land to manage to build self-sustaining farms and the like.

As decades passed, it became clear that this lifestyle was drying up due to neighboring nations settling down into more peaceful interactions with each other. There was a violent civil war in Islamyria that pitted two factions against each other in a fight for the future of the city. The Salthearts were comprised of those who had never been able to give up piracy, those who had required much convincing to grant immunity to ships of allied nations and go seeking prey farther away; they wanted to push Islamyria back to the old ways of taking what they wanted, no more of this foolishness of treating other nations as equals. The Royalists saw that the loose collection of tribalistic families that made up the city would leave them a bickering mess if left to stand, and that they had to find ways other than violence to survive lest the growing peacefulness of the world leave them to starve; they aimed to set up a monarchy in Islamyria to unify the people and lead the city into the future.

The Royalists, being of a more unified mindset, prevailed over the disparate pirate lords by the simple strategy of divide and conquer. By the time the remaining Salthearts understood the folly of their stubborn independence it was far too late for them to win, so some banded together to make a last stand while others packed up their belongings and sailed away from the city to live their pirate lives as they so chose. The Royalists swept the rabble away with ease, but they were left with the awkward realization that now they had to actually select a single person to rule over them all. They were splintered into different factions that fought for dominance, but it was not nearly so bloody as the expulsion of the irredeemable pirate elements of the city. After about a year of political maneuvering and blackmail and a few assassinations, the Kalis family took the reins of the city without too much resentment.

Roughly two hundred years ago, the first King Kalis set Islamyria onto its course that has continued to the present day. The city had only a few things that might appeal to the rest of the world: ships, fish, a prime location for trade and travel, highly skilled carpenters, and a vast population of slaves accumulated from their raiding and mercenary days. Trade, fine craftsmanship, and entertainment were the keys to the future that the king saw. Over the course of a generation the city was transformed nearly beyond recognition, with the slave pits turned into brothels and gladiatorial arenas, the docks expanded and outfitted for more shipwrights than they'd ever needed before, the fleet expanded and built for transport rather than war, and inns and shops sprung up like weeds once the gates were opened to those who wished to conduct trade with or through the city.

Islamyria flourished and grew in those years. After they had a sufficient trade fleet, many of the shipwrights were put to work making fine furniture to be sold abroad. The ships themselves were used both to acquire and trade exotic goods for the benefit of Islamyria and as rented vessels for transportation of goods and people for rates that few could match. The slave trade boomed for the better part of a century after the first King Kalis died, but as enlightened minds decided that owning people was wrong that business tapered off. This was no problem for Islamyria: since the slaves stopped being a tradeable commodity, they were sold on the cheap to the fighting pits and brothels and craftsmen who had need of more bodies for their respective trades. Once Islamyria followed the trend of abolishing slavery, these unfortunate souls had little choice but to continue doing the work they had been forced into for wages that were just enough to survive on.

Modern Day
In the modern day, Islamyria is regarded as one of the wealthiest and greatest cities in the known world. However, despite all of the finer points, there is one thing that is inextricably bound with the name of the city in the minds of people far and wide: the Three Q's. They are the grandest brothels in the city, said to be the three greatest in all the world, and it is fairly common for well-to-do young men and women around the world to make a pilgrimage to Islamyria to "run the three" as a rite of passage into adulthood. The dark history of these brothels, that they stand upon the land that was once the free use slave pits where unwanted slaves could be used in whatever manner visitors so chose, is rarely talked about, but their names and modern reputations are widely known indeed.

The Lovers' Quarrel is said to be the safe harbor for men and women fleeing from the storm of a lover's wrath, and they are known to offer the service of a husband or wife for the night (which includes various performances of domestic duties and a show of devoted servitude for as long as the patron wishes, before they of course get down to the consummation of the faux marriage). The Shivering Quiver is known for its sign that appears to be a quiver full of arrows, but which is in fact a multitude of cocks shoved into one vagina; they cater to exotic interests and claim to be able to find any patron a whore to match whatever appearance they wish with only one week's notice. The Captive Queen derives its name from stories about a queen who was captured and held in the slave pit for public use to punish her for her ships giving the Islamyrian raiders a lot of trouble for a decade before they finally broke through to raze the city; they continue this tradition by having a whore selected as the king or queen of the brothel for a week at a time, which consists of them being far cheaper to purchase than other whores and having to remain on a bed in the public courtyard to be fucked by any number of patrons at once. There are also dark rumors that the proprietors of the Captive Queen will, for the right price, acquire unwilling subjects to be used by those with darker tastes that cannot be met in lawful ways.

The current king, Arzan Kalis, is said to be a greedy and violent man. Many have referred to him as a throwback to the city's days of piracy. Despite this reputation, Arzan Kalis has maintained decent relations with neighboring nations and Islamyrian business has run as usual in the four years since he took the throne.

About Islamyria
Refer to this map to see more about Islamyria:

View attachment 160698


  • Climate
    Tropical.

    Weather
    Usually hot and humid, seasonal hurricanes.

    Flora
    The main peninsula is largely unsuitable for most plant life due to the saltiness permeating the land, leaving only hardy scrub and cacti to find root there. The end of the main peninsula is a fairly dry grasslands sort of environment, and the secondary peninsula up to the north is similar but has far more in the way of trees and the like.

    Fauna
    Mostly lizards and insects and the like in the desert areas, only small mammals and birds to be found near the capital, and a wider variety of grassland dwelling creatures on the northern peninsula.

  • Races
    Tieflings are the primary race of Islamyria in terms of power, but not in terms of numbers; the ruling family and most other powerful families and groups are comprised exclusively of tieflings. Others are all welcome to visit, but only those of other races who bring a useful trade or skill are fully approved to live in the city permanently. Humans are the largest population by numbers, though most of them are cripplingly poor or indentured into servitude and work for those human craftsmen who brought their business to the city. Humans are about 25% of the population, tieflings somewhere in the area of 20%, elves (of various kinds combined) are almost as numerous, and all manner of other races make up the other ~30% of the permanent population.

    Gender Roles
    Whereas most places hew to traditional gender roles that place women firmly in second place, Islamyria is far more relaxed in that regard. While men still hold most of the political power and own most of the businesses, it is not uncommon to see a woman running her own shop or wielding equal power to other nobles among the tieflings, and they are generally accepted in such positions. Domestic roles vary, but many married women do hold some kind of job rather than being just housewives.

    Languages
    Almost everyone speaks the common tongue of the land with enough fluency to communicate with others for day to day business and the like. The Myrian language of the tiefling nobility is also very common in the capital city. Other languages are used by the various races who live in the city, but only those two are officially recognized as languages of Islamyria.

    Culture
    The cultural climate of Islamyria is a messy mix produced by a complicated history and an influx of foreign influence. Elements of rule by strength of arm can be found in the poor outskirts of the city and out in the towns and villages, and all throughout there is a general laxness in respect for laws and rules that hails from the Islamyria’s history as a nation of pirates and raiders. However, amongst most of the citizenry there is a binding respect for contracts made for coin that supersedes their tendencies for lawlessness, a legacy of their days as a hub of mercenaries; the saying “words are weightless, gold is heavy” is the common way of expressing this odd way of thinking. The more recent transition into a center of trade and entertainment brought with it a relaxed and carefree atmosphere throughout the city. Overall Islamyria has been described, and accurately so, as a city in which anything goes as long as you don't piss off someone powerful by doing it.

    Sexuality
    Islamyrian culture has always taken a rough but permissive view of sexuality. There was no such crime as rape in the kingdom for most of its history, and such laws were only introduced around 170 years ago as foreign visitors increased and the reigning king of that time realized what a disastrous effect that could have on diplomatic relations; he was informed of this problem on the first visit of King Folmar Talodrel, and the new law was passed before the foreign king left the city. There is little to no stigma about engaging in sex before marriage for commoners, and for the noble families it is in fact encouraged in order to become practiced in the art of lovemaking to be able to satisfy your future spouse; many young nobles pay for the services of sexual instructors from the major brothels in the city in order to increase their skills and thus their desirability as a spouse, for it is rare that nobles marry before seeing how well their intended performs in bed. Chastity is a source of mockery and ridicule in Islamyria, and one is not considered truly an adult regardless of age until they've had sex. There is some discrimination against homosexuality amongst the commoners, but for the most part Islamyrians take a very hedonistic view of sex: if it feels good, do it.

    Religion
    The tieflings of Islamyria tend toward atheistic points of view, and they commonly hold selfish and hedonistic outlooks on life that do not jive well with religious codes of morality. The most common religion is the monotheistic worship of Batur, a god associated with order and righteousness; the humans of Islamyria and the surrounding regions tend to worship him and take comfort in knowing that their place in life is exactly where Batur saw fit to place them, and that they will be rewarded in the afterlife if they live their life according to his design. There is a loosely affiliated pantheistic faith in the area, called the Skarnian religion by most, that consists of minor deities that oversee specific aspects of life; most people worship a few of them in their own ways, saying prayers or giving offerings as they see fit, and it is very much a personal faith rather than an organized one.

    Arts and Entertainment
    Over the past two centuries, Islamyria has been built up into a jewel of a city that thrives on entertainment of all sorts, and with that has come a golden age of the arts. One need not go far to find a painter or a sculptor or a writer working away at their craft. Venues of entertainment range from drinking to gambling to brothels to fighting pits, and there are regular festivals that turn the whole city into a carnival of a place for a few days at a time. It is renowned around the world as a place that caters to all desires for fun and pleasure, and for good reason.

    Fashion
    Light and loose garments are always in style thanks to the necessities of the climate. Recently amongst the well to do women of Islamyria it has become fashionable to bare as much skin as possible while remaining decent; sheer silk is a favorite amongst these circles as it allows nominal decency whilst leaving little to the imagination. The fashion trends of wealthy men have gone one step further: they too bare vast tracts of flesh, but they have also taken to donning ostentatious accessories and wearing very wide-brimmed hats.

  • Type of Government
    Absolute monarchy.

    Ruler
    King Arzan Kalis

    Power Structure
    The king sits at the top and his word is law. All others who have some lawful power over the city are given such authority only at his word. However, more practically speaking, there are a handful of trusted advisors who oversee various parts of the governance of the city, each of them have trusted subordinates, and so on. There are noble families amongst the tieflings, but they are purely marks of social status that confer no inherent powers or privileges outside of those gained from inheriting property and wealth.

    Laws
    There are official law books that record the decrees and proclamations of the king and his predecessors, but they are rife with contradictions and oddities. Some savvy nobles and business owners learn these intricacies to use to their advantage, and they usually get away with it until they piss people off enough to get the matter brought before the king. Generally all the common things one would expect to be illegal are considered illegal, and punishments are meted out at the discretion of guard captains, with reports sent to the king regularly (though nobody is sure how closely anyone looks at them).

    Law Enforcement
    There are city guards, predominantly tieflings, who watch out for lawbreakers and go hunting down known or suspected criminals. They are a cohesive force only in times of war and need when the city comes under attack. Otherwise, while they may have the same outfit and armor, they are autonomous groups that each take care of one section of the city, each with a captain to lead them. The captains are selected by the king or his trusted advisors, presumably for their trustworthiness.

    Corruption
    Corruption runs rampant in Islamyria. If you can provide enough gold or services to get someone to look the other way, you can get away with pretty much anything. However, those who offer bribes too small for the request often end up facing all sorts of nasty consequence for daring to insult the person in question with such a pittance.

  • General Tech Level
    Generic Medieval.

    Weaponry
    Generic Medieval, heavy usage of ballistae for both city defense and ship weapons.

    Medicine
    Edging toward Renaissance levels of medicine, wherein experimentation is occurring rather than simply relying on folklore and old wisdom, but mostly the treatments are ineffective and people usually die if they take a grievous wound or get seriously ill.

  • Availability
    Very rare, not quite to the level of being considered mythical by the general populace of Islamyria, but nobody is believed when they say they saw someone perform true magic. There are however always whispers about those who can provide magical services to those with the gold. Most sellers of "magic" cures and curses are in fact bullshit peddlers.

    Capabilities
    Unknown. Rumored to be able to do anything from raise the dead to destroy the whole city in an instant.

 
Last edited:
Nothing You Could Do;East Sea Dokdo;Actor;

World Lore: Farenthaes​
When the Waves Come Crashing

History
The kingdom of Farenthaes was founded twelve centuries ago, by a group of dark elves who had been liberated from a neighboring kingdom. The former slaves were a tight-knit group, and their leader was a fierce woman named Daratrine Farentha. She was said to be a natural born leader, with impressive tactician skills and an unshakable desire to create a new home for her friends. Thus the small tribe “Farenthaes” was created, and the dark elves settled in the north-western part of the Aswenor continent. To this day, the ten or so families or derivatives of those families are nobles and considered the “purest” of the dark elves.

Daratrine was a fair ruler, and like her kin, she lived to be over two hundred years old. In her time of ruling, the rumours of a “fair and feminine” settlement made its way along the mountains of Aswenor, and a few dwarven clans joined their ranks. Daratrine welcomed them all, and even as she passed her title of supreme ruler to her daughter, Duiyla Farentha, the tradition of accepting anyone who wanted to live under their reign. Duiyla was the one who expanded their territory towards the west, closer to the sea. She bargained with local lordships and when they refused to submit to their matriarch ways, she had an army of ferocious dark elves, elves, and dwarves. The humans that came from the shore and ships from other worlds had a hard time adapting to this kind of ruling where women were socially higher than men. This did not make any of the dark elves flinch: daughter after daughter, the settlement expanded into a kingdom, and it was named after their first mother: Farenthaes.

About eight hundred years ago, Queen Chandrelle Sarleth wrote the first code of law, and after corruption had taken down the previous queen and her consort, she established the Royal Parley: a grouping of eleven people consisting of one high priestess, five guild leaders, and five nobles. She figured this way, only a small group of people held all the power and the King and Queen were to supervise such a Parley and keep their eyes open for any signs of corruption. Originally, all the Parley members had to be women, but that changed two centuries later. Chandrelle II was then queen, and it was decided they would bring forth a kingdom that promoted equality between men and women. A lot of the traditions were changed and it brought the kingdom on the brink of a civil war - those who had fought for generations for the matriarch, and those who welcomed a more “modern” take of gender roles. The changes in the books of law took another century before everyone got used to the idea of gender equality, but Chandrelle II’s wish became reality.

Remnants of the matriarch stronghold are still present, notably in the matrilineal succession. Men married into their wives’ families and abandoned their surname. Those blessed by Hisani priestesses would give birth to more girls than boys, and the genetic pool of elves and dark elves more often than not carried the mother’s traits.

Over the next three centuries, Farenthaes prospered and became a bastion of agriculture and crafts trading. The queen and king often sought to forge political alliances with their neighbors, or even trading ships that would come through, but their pirate neighbor Islamyria caused them troubles on top of troubles, and it became very difficult (and nearly impossible) to conduct safe trade by ship.There was nothing that could be done however, as their chaotic and pirate-like kingdom was impossible to safely forge political alliances with.

When the Qinsatras came to power, just about two hundred years ago, they ignored their Parley’s warning about Islamyria and went forward with the beginning of peace talk. They were well aware of the kind of geographical situation that the nation was in, which made them entirely dependent on foreign trade. They used this to their advantage (as they are mostly self-sufficient) and offered them farming lands in exchange for access to their trading ports.

Modern Day
Farenthaes and Islamyria have been allies for a little under 200 years now. They have a mutually beneficial trading agreement where Farenthaes provides mostly food, and Islamyria provides them a secured access to the trading ship ports. The first Qinsatra queen, Gliralda, struck a peace agreement with the new king of Islamyria and celebrations were had for days and days in Farenthaes, as the coasts were no longer to be feared of any kind of pirate invasions or pillages. They had a business deal that was quite advantageous for both parties, and while the nobles from both kingdoms were satisfied with their current situations for almost two centuries, recent visitations from the newly crowned king of Islamyria, king Arzan Kalis, brought many to re-think the terms of the negotiation. Nobles from Farenthaes were spoiled with the incredible art pieces from their southern neighbors, but the prices were exorbitant and even a little ridiculous, but the king would hear none of it. His visits always left the nobles either empty-pocketed for months, or extremely unhappy of letting such masterpieces slip through their greedy fingers.

The Parley heard those pleas and soon enough, Queen Anarzi was tasked with engaging in re-negotiations with King Arzan. Their talk went relatively smoothly, but only very few people know what actually went down in their closed room conversation.

About Farenthaes
Refer to this map to see more about Farenthaes:

View attachment 160700


  • Climate
    Humid subtropical

    Weather
    Summers are hot and humid, winters are cold and harsh. Typically has longer spring season to allow for best agriculture, what with year-long regular precipitation. Occasional seasonal hurricanes, mostly the “tails” from hurricanes in Islamyria.

    Flora
    Because of the climate bringing four seasons to this area, the lands are ripe for harvesting and agricultural practices. There are not many forests in Farenthaes, mostly fields and swamp-like land.There is a large lake that is often mistaken for a small sea, but the clear water allows for lushful plant life. Closer to the mountains, the terrain changes a bit for a more continental climate, with less humidity and more desert and tundra-like dryness.

    Fauna
    Animals found in Farenthaes vary on their location. Closer to the ocean are more tropical-like insects and reptiles, while the large lake is rumoured to have large sea creatures that have only been seen by a handful of people in the past centuries. The swamps are filled with alligators, and small game can be found throughout the land regardless of the climate. Close to the mountains, large predatory animals can be found, including wolves and small bears.

  • Races
    The nation contains a generous mix of all kinds of races. The most common are dark elves, but there are also elves, humans, dwarves, tieflings, and aasimars. Positions of power are held by any races but extremely rarely by tieflings or aasimars. Those two races are heavily prejudiced against because of their reputation caused by ancient texts. Dwarves are about 20% of the population, dark elves 40%, humans 20%, regular elves are at 10% and tieflings + aasimars cover about 10% together.
    Most elves (dark and other) are the most well-off families, while dwarves constitute most of the merchant class. Humans can be found in various positions of power and there are some older noble families.

    Gender Roles
    Surprisingly, Farenthaes has the remnants of a matriarchal society, but it hasn’t been truly a matriarchy for over 600 years, as the influx of new races and cultures shifted that around quite a bit. Women are viewed at equals of men for the elves and humans. Dwarves and other races have “adapted” over the centuries but in general it is better for appearances if guild leaders or business owners are, in fact, women.

    Languages
    Because of the myriad of races, there are many unofficial languages. The most common are Dwarven, Myrian, Common, and the native tongue Thaesan. The official language is Common, but most important texts and the codes of law are written in Thaesan. It is also the language of the nobility and the royal court. Most commoners will know some bits of important Thaesan, but it is not rare to see merchants and commoners communicate in more local dialect that mixes all four languages. The farmers and agriculture workers speak almost exclusively in common.

    Culture
    Amongst the nobility, all forms of arts are the main sign of a high cultural education. Paintings, sculptures, fictional texts like poetry or theatre, and even architecture are all mediums that nobles and royalty takes pride in sharing and owning. Outside the city walls, however, art is far from being the main cultural distraction. Performance arts are still common, with troubadours and bards visiting the peasants’ taverns across the land. Trucking is the most common way of “payment”, or the simple exchange of goods. It is highly regulated by the codes of law, however, and there are set rules about the equivalence of items or stock which one can barter with. This was created for the peasants and commoners, to avoid anyone being duped. At the city walls, there are specialized merchants who will exchange goods for coins to allow the farmers to have purchasing power inside the city. Slavery is illegal but still practiced under the guise of servants.

    Sexuality
    In modern Farenthaes, it is common for adults to have casual sexual relationships with multiple partners, especially for women. Marriage is considered appropriate after thirty years old, so before that, women are almost expected to explore their sexuality with multiple partners, and homosexual experiences are encouraged for this particular period. However, it is highly frowned upon to bear children before one is married, which means that the market for special teas and brews as a way of contraception is extremely common. It is nonetheless taboo, as the main deity in Farenthaes is the goddess of fertility. There is a lot of sexual liberty regardless, including some exotic soirées where men and women from across the kingdom join in for a masked ball that often results in orgies, so long as everyone keeps their masks and accepts the special brews given out at the doors when they leave.

    Religion
    Amongst the Farenthaesians, the most common deity is the Goddess of seasons and fertility, Hisani. Temples are not a rarity outside the castle walls, with priestesses being at the head of them all. There are two simple rituals every year, one at the beginning of spring (to make offerings for a good harvest) and at the end of fall (to thank for the good harvest). Nobles and such do not necessarily practice this monotheist religion, but marriage ceremonies still hold the traditional acknowledgement of Hisani as the “mother of all mothers” and she is invoked when wishing a newly wed couple a fruitful union. There are a multitude lesser known religions, mostly monotheist ones or pagan rituals, practiced among the commoners and merchants of Farenthaes, but none bigger than a handful of believers.

    Arts and Entertainment
    As mentioned, arts and entertainment is the main cultural expression of the nobility. Commissioned art is extremely common, and the gifted artists are highly celebrated even when they are commoners or peasants. Performance arts are also common in the form of plays and the like. Music is not something very appreciated by the nobles with very few exceptions, like renown pianists. Fun fact, the first rudimentary pianos were crafted by a noble elven family, and that is the only instrument that is accepted as “good enough” for nobility. Singing is also an accepted medium, but only when the songs are lyrical and poetic.

    Fashion
    Because of the many different types of weather, fashion greatly varies from season to season. During the winter, pelts and soft furs are the most common garments for coats and mantles, while peasants will usually wear wool items. Leather is by far the most common fabric used in daily clothing, while silk is used for formal clothing. Nobles and royals will wear a mix of silk and leather, and always in bright colours. Dull colours are frowned upon and any artisan who lacks the knowledge of dye making is sure to find it more than difficult to sell their wares inside the castle walls. Commoners also wear colourful clothes, though a bit more modestly than nobles. Peasants and farmers wear linen, cotton, and leather clothing that is meant to last much longer and be both light in the humid summers, and warm in the cold winters.

  • Type of Government
    Absolute monarchy

    Rulers
    Queen Anarzi Qinsatra and King Nevarth Qinsatra

    Power Structure
    The queen sits above the king and she has absolute power over everything. However, this is not the favoured division of power. Decisions and laws are made by the Royal Parley. It consists of hand-picked individuals (total of eleven): nobles, merchants, and a high priestess. Merchants are elected through their respective guilds (tailors, masons, blacksmiths & weaponsmiths, produce, artisans) while nobles usually inherit their positions. If a noble family, for some reason, does not have a candidate for their inherited seat, they provide the Parley a list of non-blood-related candidates and a new member is elected. This new member earns the precedence from the departing noble and is considered a full member of the Parley until they also run out of descendance. The queen and king have a veto power over all of the Parley’s decisions, even for the most mundane of tasks, but the Parley may also question the queen and king when their decisions are deemed unreasonable. Historically this has only happened on one occasion, where both royals were sick with dementia.

    Laws
    There are new law-books for every new generation of crowned queens, though most of them carry over the same laws and additional laws are simply annexed. Since the Parley oversees most of their content, there are very few contradictions and laws are updated as traditions change or become obsolete. The Parley also acts as a court of law for the lawbreakers, as they know the law better than anyone else, and the procedure for judgment is the simple reading of the law(s) in question that was broken, along with the results of investigations proving either guilty or innocent. The Parley prides itself in its just and equal application of the law, whether it be for nobles or peasants. Everyone is equal before the judgment of the Parley. All executions must be approved by the queen or king.

    Law Enforcement
    The Royal Guards and City Guards are the main law enforcers. They are posted in different areas of the city and scattered across the land. Each section of the city is covered by a group of city guards, with at their head a royal guard. The royal guards are selected by the Parley and report directly to them. They swear loyalty to the Queen and King, and then to the Parley. The city guards act as law enforcers, investigators, and hunters. They are much more local, and even though they also all swear loyalty like the royal guards, some of them may only visit the city once if they are posted in the outskirts of Farenthaes. They are encouraged to found their families in their assigned locations, as re-assignments are extremely rare. They are upheld to a certain “knightly” code of conduct, so any rule breakers or corrupted guards are sent in to the city for judgment and any necessary “reforms”. There is a prison with different levels of crimes, with specific sentences for each crime. Executions are rare, and public sentences (public shaming) are non-existent.

    Corruption
    It has happened in the past where the Parley was rumoured to be corrupted, that nobles were being favoured while peasants were harshly punished - or the opposite. However, thanks to the elective positions and the veto of the queen and king, the weeds are often pulled out before they spread their roots too far. Corruption and abuse of power is punishable by death, so very few nobles or guards ever attempt it. Bribing is frowned upon even among the lower class guards. There will always be power hungry and corrupt people however, and some weeds cannot be unrooted easily, though those situations are hushed and “classified”, which the general public cannot know about.

  • General Tech Level
    Advanced medieval technology.

    Weaponry
    Generic medieval weapons, though archery is preferred. All guards are trained to use crossbows, both light and heavy, though they will always carry a sword. The city walls has ballistae posts every half mile or so. Farenthaes is rich in metalloids and metals, with blacksmiths being able to forge all kinds of swords and weapons, and using different recipes for different usages.

    Medicine
    Healers are common enough, though they tend towards more “natural” ways of mending wounds and sicknesses. Herbs and potions are at the center of their craft, and some alchemists are renowned for their highly effective lotions and elixirs. There is quite a bit of experimentation going on, and those are often supervised by one of the Parley members, but blackmarket alchemists are extremely common.

  • Availability
    While magic is rare, it is not uncommon for some elves to have some remnants of magic in their blood. Nothing extraordinaire. Priestesses apparently have been bestowed with the powers of their goddess, and that is probably the only kind of “magic” that has ever been seen. Magical items, however, do exist and are exchanged or sold at extremely high prices. They are catalogued and their circulation will have been monitored ever since their creation.

    Capabilities
    Divine magic from the priestesses is the most known and recorded type of magic. While not extraordinaire, it is rarely disregarded except for those who do not believe in Hisani. It can provide minor things, like speeded healing, a better harvest, and abnormally high fertility. Many barren women have decided to hand their fate to Hisani, and it has resulted in them bearing at least one child. Priestesses are bound by their devotion to Hisani and cannot offer magical blessings to non-believers.

 
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Please note that GM characters are not the same as player characters! Their sheets are going to be much shorter and no strengths or weaknesses are visible for the moment. If anyone wants to make connections between characters pre-IC, let me know :D

Left to finish and add: King Kraymer, Captain Draynor, Quartermaster Belanor



Name:
Elanso Zagi
Race:
Elf
Sex/Gender:
Female
Age:
54 years old
Appearance:
Standing at a shorter than average 5'5", Elanso has dark skin and eyes just as dark. Her hair is braided in thick tresses and the sides are shaved. She always wears a red neck scarf, and has a jewelled pendant of an owl. Her overall body type is lithe, and her face has intricate tattoos made with a semi-permanent type of ink. They remain on her skin for weeks at a time, until it washes off and she remakes them in a different style.
Role:
First Mate
Biography:
Elanso befriended Draynor a few years ago when they met in a brothel in Mirgho's Harbor. She's a lot more level-headed than he is, and helps reign in his ambitions at times. She's always up for an adventure though and will follow her friend and captain to hell and back.
Hexcode: #3A3
Art source



Name:
Foklath Estrai, "Fooky"
Race:
Tiefling
Sex/Gender:
Male
Age:
28
Appearance:
With ash-coloured skin, Fooky's reddish-brown horns stand out quite a bit, more so than other tieflings. They sit on his head almost like half a halo, and his lack of hair is hidden under thick shawls. He never removes them in public, but he does change them to fit with whatever he is wearing at the time. His eyes are a stormy orange, and it's pretty rare to see him without a smirk or secretive smile. His outfits are mostly made out of leather, pleasantly snug around the well-toned muscles of his arms and torso. His tail is the same ashy colour as his skin and the tip has a reddish tone to it.
Role:
Carpenter
Biography:
Fooky was born and raised in Islamyria, where he went to began a woodworking apprenticeship at a very young age. He was immensely gifted, so much that the King of Islamyria scouted him to join the royal armada. However when he refused a price was set on his head and he became a hunted man. He escaped with nothing but his books and notes on naval carpentry and ended up at Mirgho's Harbor. Having trouble finding work because of his pretentious attitude, he ended up working at one of the busiest pubs in the Habor. This is where he met Draynor and a few other ship mates, and instantly the two men got along and he was recruited to be part of the Burnt Hands crew.
Hexcode: #A50
Image artist



Name:
Belanor Royarus
Race:
Tiefling
Sex/Gender:
Male
Age:
32
Appearance:
Towering most folks at 6 feet 4, Belanor is truly monstrous in appearance. His dark red skin and thick curved horns are true marks of the tiefling race, and some say he was sculpted by all the tiefling gods themselves. Bright as embers, his orange eyes seem to pop out even more in contrast with his red skin and dark hair. The muscles of his arms and torso were honed over years of manual labor.
Role:
Quartermaster
Biography:
Belanor has been a ship's quartermaster for as long as he's been old enough to hold a whip confidently. Hailing from an Islamyrian island down south, he worked on many different types of ships and never stayed very long on them. Distributing punishment was perhaps his favourite task, but soon he found that it bored him and he yearned for some respect more than for his mates to fear him. Eventually he ended up in Oshanlenor, and befriended a carpenter turned bartender in a pub. Belanor was greatly amused by Fooky's aloof yet pretentious attitude, and together they were recruited by Captain Draynor and his First Mate Elanso. While he has very little occasion to distribute his lovely punishments, Belanor's found that the Burnt Hands were the crew members he'd been yearning for.
Hexcode: #935

Art source



Name:
Kraymer Fardi
Race:
High Elf
Sex/Gender:
Male
Age:
Exact age unknown, at least 230 years old
Appearance:
In most places of Aswenor, there rarely is a difference between a regular elf and a high elf. Kraymer claims to be a high elf, however, and it started the trend of calling oneself a high elf if any traits were similar to the king's. Silver-white hair and icy blue-grey eyes are his most striking feature, and unlike any other mortal known he does not have a single hint of aging on him. He looks exactly the same as when he first set his sails on the shores of Oshanlenor two hundred years ago. He measures approximately 6'6" and his muscles are strong but lean, giving him natural grace and strength all at once.
Role:
King of Oshanlenor (self-proclaimed)
Biography:

Hexcode: #69A

Art source
 
Last edited:
Name: Figsi "Fig" Skelder (née Melskald)
Race: Dwarven.
Sex/Gender: Female.
Age: Nineteen.
Appearance: Inspired by this (©Kan Liu). Standing at only 4'3", Fig is anything but intimidating, but her sharp look can be a little unsettling. Reddish-brown hair extends down to her neck, braided on the sides but messy and loose on top. Silver markings streaking down the left side of her face draw attention away from her pale skin to her dull blue-grey eyes.

Role: Rigger / Boatswain's Mate.

Though she's up for helping the boatswain in anything they need done, she can usually be found far above the deck, tossing about the ropes or furling the sails.

Strengths:
  • Nimble. There are few places she cannot reach with her quick feet and quicker hands, leaving her equally at ease on deck as hanging from the rigging.
    • (Improved climbing ability.)
  • Brace. Due in part to her low centre of gravity, she bears remarkable balance.
    • (Improved movement on unstable footing.)
  • Grace. Her smooth and calculated movements make no sound as she speeds across the boards.
    • (Improved stealth.)
  • Iron grip. While her carrying capacity may be limited, her grip is nothing to balk at. So long as either her fingers, arms, or legs are wrapped around something—or someone—there's little chance they'll escape. Also applies to slick surfaces, like wet rope.
    • (Improved grip.)
  • Nightlight. Her family's mountainous origins have gifted her with sight well-suited to low-light conditions.
    • (Improved ability to see in the dark.)
Weaknesses:
  • Like a stone. Though she can tread water for a minute or two, neither her endurance nor her lung capacity are great—and good luck actually trying to get anywhere.
    • (Diminished swimming ability.)
  • Guts. She's inherited her father's strong constitution, granting her a natural resistance to medicinal painkillers, such as opiates and alcohol.
    • (Resistance to painkillers.)
  • Quiet. Her voice has always been soft, and there's a limit she can't surpass. Shouting is beyond her ability, and she even struggles to speak loud enough to be heard over ongoing conversation—leading to not be taken seriously by some.
    • (Diminished speaking/shouting ability.)
  • Little pebble. Diminutive as she is, the average sailor would have little trouble picking her up and throwing her overboard—so long as she doesn't latch onto anything first.
    • (Diminished strength & combat ability.)
  • Near-sight. She has difficulty seeing far-away things.
    • (Diminished ability to see at a distance.)

Biography:

Figsi was born in Farenthaes, and spent much of her youth there.

Her parents both cared for her deeply, but in different ways. Her mother, ever practical, was strict and always pushing her to follow a predetermined path. Her father was more relaxed—always a little tipsy, but his constitution was such that he was seldom ever drunk—and simply wanted to spend more time with his two loves: his daughter, the sea, and his bottle. Figsi never understood how two such different people could have ever fallen in love, but as her father told it, even the stalwart hearts of the dwarves can change when decade pass.

And so it finally came to pass—not unexpectedly—that her mother broke the marriage off. Figsi did not mind at first, as she was passed from parent to parent, but her mother grew jealous of the joy she shared with her father. With little warning, she'd banded friends and family to her side, demanding that her daughter be given the proper care she deserved, all day, every day: the care of a mother.

Not wanting to go through the effort of fighting the already deep-rooted matriarchal culture, he fled with Figsi at the first opportunity.

He fled to Islamyria with fifteen-year-old daughter in tow. An experience of exploration and self-discovery for them both, they split their time between basking in the city's exotic appeal and sailing the sea for a spare coin. And when even Islamyria became too close to her mother's searching claws, they simply moved on to Oshanlenor.

While certainly no step up, the pair still adapted without too much fuss. Her father settled down in Mirgho's Harbour, shrewdly keeping out of trouble and leveraging contacts in both Islamyria and Farenthaes to build up a small mercantile trade. Meanwhile Figsi, now nineteen, seeks to take her next step alone, searching for a crew that will enable her to experience the world from a new perspective.

Hex colour: #88E

Bogli Skelder, her father, is quite dear to her. This will be the first time she'll be leaving his side for a presumably extended period of time—at least, since fleeing Farenthaes—and this may leave her heartsick at times. Worst-case scenario, he can be used as leverage against her. (Also, Skelder is a name he made up in Islamyria.)

Helstaf Melskald, née Durnne, her mother, is not cruel. She merely loves her daughter and thinks Bogli a poor influence. She will do anything in her power to retrieve her daughter. Unfortunately, as her leads ran dry shortly after Bogli and Figsi left Islamyria, there is little left in her power to do.
 
Last edited:
Name: Ophelia Eonslight
Race: Tiefling
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: 26
Appearance:

IycrB3q.jpg
Standing 5’9”, Ophelia is a bit on the tall side. She has pale pinkish skin, and her horns are kind of small curling up from her temples and coming to points above her head. She keeps her amber eyes lined with dark lines, giving her a strange countenance. She keeps her dark hair cut short above her ears. She's fairly well muscled, not overly so, but enough that she was able to help carry the bags of grain and kegs of ale when necessity arose.

Role: Rigger/Boatswain

Strengths:


* Celebrated Climber - having spent her youth without guidance she often found her way to the rooftops. Finding handholds and footholds where others may not see them. She can climb basically anything.
* Knot for Nothing- Having come across a book of knots when she was younger, she managed to practice and memorize the text. There’s not a known knot that she can’t tie or untie
* Uniquely Unobtrusive - Used to being in the background, she is often overlooked and as such is privy to information she wouldn’t normally be privy to.


Weaknesses:


* Blundering Blade- No skill with a sword or any kind of blade for that matter.
* Sullenly Seasick - Being her first time on a ship she’s fighting with a mighty case of seasickness, hopefully it gets better from here on out
* Inadequate Intimidation - Try as she might, she’s just not intimidating.


Biography:

Ophelia grew up in the Mirgho’s Harbor, spending her childhood trying to help her mother out. The woman was a sickly woman. She was never well enough to provide for her daughter, and it fell upon Ophelia to keep them fed. Luckily, she was a resourceful child and found different ways to keep a roof over their heads, though it was rarely enough to keep their bellies full.

As soon as she was old enough to be taken seriously she found work in the Chipped Chalice, serving ale and food to those with the coin to pay for it. She worked her ass off, but the pay was meager. It was barely more than she was managing to scrounge up on the streets, but it was a steady income and so she never once complained.

In her spare time, precious little though it was, she had a worshiper of Valsa help her better herself. Together they spent many a night and eventually Ophelia learned to read. She read everything she could, but it was books about sailing and the ocean that she preferred to anything else.

She dreamed of getting away. Getting away from the stench and the smoke of the Harbor. Of exploring the world. Of setting sail and never looking back. Unfortunately, Ophelia knew she’d never be able to leave her mother behind to fend for herself. If she was to do that she would be sentencing her to death; the woman would die without her.

Ophelia’s devotion to the ocean grew and grew. She saw it as a means for escape. She prayed daily to Zainth, knowing one day she’d have her escape. As the hands of time passed, Ophelia’s mother grew frailer and frailer until she was naught but a wisp of a woman. She was barely alive, but still she hung on for another year. When she finally passed Ophelia was both relieved and saddened.

Feeling guilty, she couldn’t bring herself to find a ship to join. When she saw the notice for privateers for the Wretched Siren she ignored it, at first. But as time went on the notice was all she could think about. Now was her time. She would never get ahead serving tables at the Chalice, and she knew it was now or never. If she didn’t buck up and get on a ship she never would and she’d be stuck doing the same thing for the rest of her life.

Hex colour: #09B



image source: Tiefling
 
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[spoili]
Name:
Aela Heisen Faux
Race:
Human-Elf
Sex/Gender:
Female
Age:
32
Appearance:
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2e/87/9b/2e879b8e21f86171945a4bf9f2f288f0.jpg
JessicaFaux.jpg
Aela stands around 5'7'' and has an hourglass figure, compliments of being able to eat right, and the occasional wrestle with her brothers. Her hair comes down to the top of her collarbone and is a dark red. Her pointed elvish ears stick out from behind the red hair like people peeking through curtains and she adorns them with various earrings. Aela prefers dark clothing and more often than not wears something that drapes over her like shawls, trench coats, or in some very formal occasions, capes.

Role:
Surgeon

Strengths:
  • Aela is good at determining sickness by using tell-tale signs such as coughs and their frequency, redness, sores, or aches. She then can produce medicine to either increase or decrease these things.
  • Aela knows how to wield a knife, a trademark weapon among her two brothers, and with it she knows how to cut people up into several little pieces. Combined with her dexterity and precision as a doctor, she is deadly with it.
  • Aela is amazing at talking up people and things. Its how she acquires work after all. She can wear a smile if necessary and knows when someone will eat up her compliments or spit 'em back at her boots.
  • Aela can swim and made sure she could swim good. After the name Sage started going around she realized that her life was going to be on the water for quite a bit and so she learned to swim.

Weaknesses:
  • Aela is not a combatant. She hasn't spent time working on her physique much, but what little she has done is only so she can run the hell away or hold something while someone does something.
  • Aela isn't very acrobatic, she couldn't run across a beam, she'd probably have to hug it and scoot her way to safety or whatever goal.
  • Aela is not a planner, she likes to think on her feet and deal with things as they come. This gets her into trouble such as boarding a one-way boat.
  • Aela loves thrills, but often comes with very few skills necessary to deal with consequences of such thrills. She doesn't mind getting her blood going if she lives through the ordeal. So far this means bar fights.

Biography:
Aela Heisen Faux was the first born of a moderately wealthy elvish merchant woman in Islamyria. Her mother was unfortunately killed by disease. Her father, Garen, took the loss pretty hard, hiding out in the confines of his lover’s home, trying to manage the business that had been left him and a baby girl. Not much time passed and her father started to see women, to him nothing mattered, but filling this hole in his heart. He slept around, attatching his very soul to whoever he could, but no one could replace his first love. However, while soul searching he had two sons with two different women. The women were young, just starting their lives and a child placed a burden on them that they could not handle. That’s how the trio of half-breeds came to be; Aela the Elf, Jorthmur the Tiefling, and Kidd the Aasimar.

They all realized how unlikely their family was, a rich human with a bunch of half-breeds, but that only stressed how important family was for them. Aela doesn’t remember much of her childhood, but her father was always working, running ragged to manage the people trying to hassle him out of his money, the various criminals trying to threaten him, and his kids. There were times where he had to call for Jorthmur’s mother (the only one he could find) to take care of them.

Nao, Jorthmur’s mom, eventually realized how hard their father Garen was working and decided she’d stick around. She became the children's caretaker and took care of them while Garen was busy, but only under the condition that her identity not be revealed to the children. So, unbeknownst to the children one of their mothers took care of them. Jorthmur and Kidd took an early liking to brawling and were constantly battling each other. Their battles ended in Jorthmur with a bruised body and Kidd barely scathed, they would then run to Nao to get patched up. Noticing the boys' behavior wasn't coming to an end anytime soon Nao taught Aela how to apply medicine and bandage her brothers' wounds. When Nao left and wasn't able to care for Jorthmur and Kidd they would run around shouting, “Hey, Sage! Sage! Fix us up!” Aela would then sigh and take a look at their injuries.

One day Nao just disappeared and a teacher was hired to teach Aela and her siblings to read and write. By that time work cooled down for Garen and he was allowed to finally breathe and relax as his wife used to, life was pretty stagnant for the family. Aela's life hadn’t changed much either, she still cared for her brothers, it seemed they felt invincible as long as the “Sage” patched them up. Eventually, Garen placed her in the apprenticeship of a stranger who offered to teach Aela how to become a pharmacist. Aela went willingly, it beat sitting around taking care of her brothers, but when she walked into the store there before her stood a tall dark grey woman: Nao.

Aela was of course hestitant to even allow this woman to teach her, she'd abandoned them after all, but to earn her trust Nao told Aela about herself. Aela discovered that Nao was Jorthmur’s mother for one, she also discovered that Kidd’s mother was dead, and then while she was being told the dark secrets of Nao's past, Aela would be taught the capabilities of different flowers and foods. It was a lot to take in and Aela was not keen on keeping it to herself and betraying her brothers. Aela told Jorthmur about Nao and he immediately confronted his mother the next day. After an hour of arguing between mother and son Aela was sent to a new teacher. She was meaner than Nao, Regina she was called, but Aela put up with it for as long as she had to. Long enough to be earn her certification as a pharmacist.

However, while Aela succeeded in life, her brothers fell into their emotions. Jorthmur could never let go of his anger and turned to crime while Kidd took to a safe desk job that made sure he was always in the eye of some authority, the news of his mother's death never sat well with him. It seemed that all was lost and the trio had finally broken apart, but then Aela suggested an idea. Together, with the help of their father they formed a business, Aela supplied all sorts of medicines, while also doubling as a bar managed by her brothers. Aela's side of the business was always in the shadow of the bar, but she didn’t mind, she just mooched off her brothers anyway.

However, that life could only satisfy her for so long, she’d mastered her craft. She began offering her services on her father’s merchant boats and sailed the seas doing what she was trained to finally. Though as time went on she realized the contempt they had for her being their boss's daughter they felt obligated to allow her to work for them. Eventually, she wanted a change of scenery and through her brother she met some interesting characters. They provided more coin, being more appreciative of her saving their ass, rather than being kind to the boss’s daughter.

With the rep her brothers helped her build as the "Sage of the Seas", it quickly became her life. Her last job took her to the island of Oshanlenor. It was a one trip job, she took it as a chance to do a little more exploration and get her blood going. When she landed on Oshanlenor a shiver went down her spine, she had just put herself in a situation thousands of miles away from home, where she knew no one. With a deep breath she moved forward and tried to spread the name of the "Sage" here. Now, all she needed was a crew looking to hire.

Making her way to the taverns it didn't take much investigating as there was posters plastered everywhere. She'd noticed some on her way there, but her mind was set on the taverns. She went over to one and onced it over with a smile.

“Sounds fun.”


Hex colour:
#C2C
[/spoili]
 
Last edited:
Name: Petur Freman

Race: Man
Sex: Male
Age: 25

Appearance:
His face is handsome enough, even with the pockmarks. His hair is black but his beard is red; his eyes are brown and thoughtful, his cheeks are plump and healthy; and his nose is roman: characters typical of his family's men.

His skin would be a light brown, if not for his long hours in the sun. His arms and legs are big, about three fourths muscle and one fourth fat; his belly looks big too, but that organ's all muscle. He smells of the sea even when inland, with a whiff of that leaf he always smokes.

His face is handsome enough, even with the pockmarks. His hair is black but his beard is red, his eyes are brown and thoughtful, his cheeks are plump and healthy, and his nose is roman: characters typical of his family.

His dress is often just a linen tunic or a pair of linen trousers; rarely does he wear both. All his items are loose and patchy, but as well kept as he could afford them to be.

His speaking voice is cool and delicate, seemingly untouched by his smoking habit: his coughing's more tied to the seasons, particularly when the heat is at its cruelest, or when the rains are at their strongest. His singing voice is markedly different, a warm baritone that embraces all his listeners.

[Inspired by the Metatron (the Youtuber), Stan Rogers, and a guy my sister dated)

Role:
He's got experience hunting, snaring, setting limbs, preparing medicines, and warding off outlaws. He'd make for a decent striker or surgeon's assistant.

Strengths and Weaknesses:
Petur grew up in the heartland; much of his knowledge about boats come from his father's teachings, plus some scant experience on the more innocuous boats of his fisherman uncles. This'd be his first truly adventurous proposition, so in all he'd prove a little green -- but he's eager, surely, and capable enough to start out as something more than a rook.

Woodsman. Having lived at the outskirts of the Hunnalbed, he's had plenty of practice shooting birds, rats, and intruders. He also knows his plants, both culinary and medicinal -- just as long as you don't take him to a different clime.

Fighter. His preferred arms are shield and axe, his preferred armor a helmet.

Limbsetter. He's assisted his aunts and cousins in many medical operations, but just that: assisted.

Boatsman. He's worked on his uncles' boats before, rowing, tying ropes, casting and drawing the nets. He should prove a capable enough sailor, even if he doesn't know much about sailing ships.

Seasick. Bane of his entire family, even considering their history. His love of leaf is more need than want: deprive him of this drug for more than a couple of days, and he'd turn a retching wretch. But even with the leaf, he'd probably prove useless in a storm, or in tasks that won't let him glance at a fixed point every so.

Lightweight. Another bane of his family, although with varying effect. For Petur, satisfying his thirst with ale and no light snack would quickly dull his senses -- that is, except for his sense of nausea.

Breathless. A recurring condition that, among the family, only he and his father have, though it's arguable who has it worse. His father's a cougher, growing more constant as he ages; Petur, being young, isn't yet as bad, only sinking half-capable during the seasons mentioned earlier, but nevertheless he won't win any endurance contests.

Diseased. Petur, like most of the poorer folk of Oshanlenor, is a survivor of many diseases, some of which have a chance of relapsing. In his case, however, these diseases return more frequently, two of them able to give him a real hard time: dysentery and typhus.

A relapse of his dysentery may be caused by bad food or dirty water. It starts with a couple of days fever, nausea, severe abdominal pain, and bloody diarrhea, followed by one to two weeks of all those symptoms except for the fever. The symptoms cannot be stopped, only mitigated by medicines and increased water intake, and it's only fatal if he doesn't get enough water.

A relapse of his typhus may be caused by his immune system being weakened, either by lack of sustanence or by some other disease. For a week, he'd seem to have the flu; then a rash would form, starting from the trunk and spreading throughout his limbs; finally, if left untreated, he'd grow mad by the third week, possibly leading to his death. Using the appropriate medicines to boost his immune system, the disease's progression can be stopped, but only until around its second week.

Both diseases are contagious. Lack of proper hygiene in food and water preparation can result in the crew getting infected by his dysentery; his typhus, the same, as well as by infestations of lice aboard the ship.

Background:
Family's important to this young man. Their lore started out a couple hundred years ago when, by virtue of their forefather being sold to a magnanimous Keelibralian landowner, they gained their freedom.

Of course, freedom isn't much without something to support yourself. Said forefather established a little steading right at a cleared corner of the Hunnalbed. This plot never amounted to much, as most of his sons and grandsons ended up returning to the landowner's descendants, albeit as wage slaves rather than as slaves proper.

Some, however, went to Mirgho's Harbor, and established decent mercantile lives for themselves: decent enough that the old steading, still kept by the family, gained enough capital to grow. This capital wasn't all earned honest: many of the men living in Mirgho's Harbor, and even the more restless sons from the steading itself, sidelined as pirate crewmen, occasionally joining ships notorious enough that the King would send men over to the steading, threatening its seizure.

But by a copious amount of bribes and a small amount of luck, the steading held, and it's directly from this place that Petur hails. Petur's not looking for much: he follows quite clear-eyed in the footsteps of his father, Jon, and his grandfather, also named Jon, in joining a pirate crew, and earning a bit of cash for the family.

This rather conservative background means Petur is quite devout: his family in general are devotees of Hisani and, for the journey, Petur's been schooled by his grandmother in basic, non-magical rituals of their worship. This also means that he'd care far less about the adventure if he learned it had anything to do against the establishment, especially the king...

Hex:
#B17

Name: Petur Freman

Race: Man
Sex: Male
Age: 25

Appearance:
His face is handsome enough, even with the pockmarks. His hair is black but his beard is red, his eyes are brown and thoughtful, his cheeks are plump and healthy, and his nose is roman: characters typical of his family.

His skin would be a light brown, if not for his long hours in the sun. His arms and legs are big, about three fourths muscle and one fourth fat; his belly looks big too, but that organ's all muscle. He smells of the sea even when inland, with a whiff of that leaf he always smokes.

His dress is often just a linen tunic or a pair of linen trousers; rarely does he wear both. All his items are loose and patchy, but as well kept as he could afford them to be.

His speaking voice is cool and delicate, seemingly untouched by his little habit: his coughing's more tied to the seasons, particularly when the heat is at its cruelest, or when the rains are at their strongest. His singing voice is markedly different, a warm baritone that embraces all his listeners.

[Inspired by the Metatron (the Youtuber), a guy my sister dated, and myself)

Role:
He's got experience hunting, snaring, setting limbs, preparing medicines, and warding off bandits. He'd make for a decent striker or surgeon's assistant.

Strengths and Weaknesses:
Petur grew up in the heartland; much of his knowledge about boats is from his father's teachings, plus some scant experience on the more innocuous boats of his fisherman and merchant uncles. This'd be his first truly adventurous proposition, so in some of the more grueling parts of the expedition, he'd prove a little green -- but he's eager, certainly, and capable enough to start out as something more than a rook.

Woodsman. Having lived at the outskirts of the Hunnalbed, he's had plenty of practice shooting birds, rats, and intruders. He also knows his plants, both culinary and medicinal -- just as long as you don't take him to a different clime.

Fighter. His preferred arms are shield and axe, his preferred armor a helmet.

Limbsetter. He's assisted his aunts and cousins in many medical operations, but of course he won't really know what to do.

Boatsman. He's worked on his uncles' boats before, rowing, tying ropes, casting and drawing the nets. He should prove a capable enough sailor, even if he doesn't know much about sailing proper ships.

Seasick. Bane of his entire family, even considering their relative experience. His love of leaf is more need than want; deprive him of this drug for more than a couple of days, and he'd turn a retching wretch. But even with the leaf, he'd probably be a little useless in a storm, or in tasks that won't let him glance at a right fixed point every so.

Lightweight. Another bane of his family, although with varying effect. For Petur, satisfying his thirst with ale and no light snack would quickly dull his senses -- that is, except for his sense of nausea.

Breathless. A recurring condition that, among the family, only he and his father have, though it's arguable who has it worse. His father's a cougher, growing more constant as he ages; Petur, being young, isn't yet as bad, only sinking half-capable during the seasons mentioned earlier, but nevertheless he won't win any endurance contests.

Diseased. Petur, like most of the poorer folk of Oshanlenor, is a survivor of many diseases, some of which have a chance of relapsing. In his case, however, these diseases relapse more frequently, two of them giving him a real hard time: dysentery and typhus.

A relapse of his dysentery may be caused by bad food or dirty water. It starts with a couple of days fever, nausea, severe abdominal pain, and bloody diarrhea, followed by one to two weeks of all those symptoms except for the fever. The symptoms cannot be stopped, only mitigated by medicines and increased water intake, and it's only fatal if he doesn't get enough water.

A relapse of his typhus may be caused by his immune system being weakened, either by lack of sustanence or by some other disease. For a week, he'd seem to have the flu; then a rash would form, starting from the trunk and spreading through his limbs; finally, if left untreated, he'd grow mad by the third week, possibly leading to his death. Using the appropriate medicines to boost his immune system, the disease's progression can be stopped by around its second week.

Both diseases are contagious. Dysentery may be contracted by consuming some of his shite; typhus, the same, as well as by getting bit by lice that previously fed on him.

Background:
Family's important to this young man. Their lore started out a couple hundred years ago when, by virtue of their forefather being sold to a magnanimous landowner down in Keelibral, they gained their freedom.

Of course, freedom isn't much without something to support yourself. Said forefather established a little steading, right at a cleared corner of the Hunnalbed; the house never amounted to much, as most of his sons and grandsons ended up returning for the landowner's descendants, albeit as wage slaves rather than as slaves proper.

Some, however, went to Mirgho's Harbor, established decent lives for themselves: decent enough that the old steading, still kept by the family, gained enough capital to grow, even for just a little bit. This capital wasn't all earned honest: many of the men living in Mirgho's Harbor, and even the more restless sons from the steading itself, sidelined as crewmen, occasionally joining ships notorious enough that the King would send men over to the steading, even threaten its seizure.

But by a copious amount of bribes and a small amount of luck, the steading held, and it's directly from this place that Petur hails. Petur's not looking for much: he follows quite clear-eyed in the footsteps of his father, Jon, and his grandfather, also named Jon, in joining Captain Draynor's crew, and earning a bit of cash for the family.

This rather conservative background means Petur is quite devout: his family in general are devotees of Hisani and, for the journey, Petur's been schooled by his grandmother in some of the more basic rituals of their worship. This also means that he'd care far less about the adventure if he learned it had anything to do against the establishment, especially the king...

Hex:
#ff00ff
 
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(so confession time, I actually don't know how to use the Hex code, only the text color picker in the editor)

Name: Laith Bishop
Race: Tiefling
Sex/Gender:Male
Age: 34
Appearance:

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sign-me-the-fuck-up-good-shit-go%E0%B1%A6%D4%81

Credit to Raviolles on Tumblr


Role:

Striker

Strengths:

Light Step -
As a child, Laith would stalk animals for fun to see how close he could get before alerting the animals. This play left him well practiced at noise discipline and enables him to move more quietly than his counterparts.

Trapper - Laith has an extensive knowledge of how to construct, set, and disarm various traps meant to ensnare game.

Weaknesses:

Blind in right eye (So reduced accuracy with ranged weaponry and more difficulty generally doing anything that requires more depth perception.)

Slow Reader / Poor Writer - Laith only knows Common and his grasp on it is tenuous at best. He Can read, albeit it takes an embarrassing length of time compared to others. He can write as well but his sentences are often riddled with errors and misspellings, occasionally beyond comprehension but usually it gets the point across.


Biography:

Born in Mirgho's Harbor, Laith's father was a sailor and his mother was an Islamyrian whore. His mother had decided she wanted someone to look after her in old age when she could no longer count on her body to provide for her. The brothel owner insisted no one wanted to pay coin to a washed up whore with a child but she wanted someone to love none-the-less. She kept the child and with only a few outfits and the coin to her name she bought passage to Oshanlenor. There she used her beauty and guile to seduce a man who could provide for her and her newborn son. It wasn't a lavish life but it was enough to live on.

His stepfather was a trapper who lived north in the forests of Hunnalbed. There was never any love between Laith and his stepfather and his stepfather never made attempts to conceal as much. Growing up Laith enjoyed being off on his own, playing in the woods and stalking small game. Even though there was no place for him in his father's household he wanted to follow in his footsteps, thinking he could prove himself and earn the man's love. But his mother had other children and they were afforded all of the affection which could not be spared on Laith, save his mother who was the bedrock of his youth. To his father he would always be a bastard. When his mother died from a fever Laith lost the only parent that loved him. His step-father confessed as much when he informed Laith there was no place for him in his new household. At only thirteen he was cast out from his home.

Laith set out to Mirgho's Harbor where all the impoverished youth of the island congregate. His mother had a way with words and fortunately passed on her silver tongue. Laith used all the charisma at his disposal to talk his way into a job on a ship, first as a cabin boy then later as a striker when he proved his aptitude for hunting and foraging.

Years later, at seventeen, his crew returned to port and Laith set out to Wreaft Row to spend his hard-earned coin at one of the more premier merchant shops on the Isle. He wore his nicest clothes so as not stand out too sorely among the privileged. There, walking the cobblestone streets he saw the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on. An Aasimar with pale skin, white hair, beautiful green eyes, and a Farenthaes slave marking tattooed on the right side of her neck. She couldn't have been more than a year or two apart from his own age and he was certain she could be no less than an angel. She sat alone in a carriage, waiting for company no doubt. He plucked a flower from a nearby pot and approached. First, he threw out a compliment. She refused to speak. Then against the boisterous protests of the driver, he inquired her name. Again she refused to speak. She appeared frightened, but he assured her that he was only curious of her name and approached to give her the flower. The driver at this point had disembarked and struck out at Laith with his whip, striking him in the arm and causing him to drop the gift. Laith cursed and reeled back but now the Aasamir girl was looking at him. Laith smiled and quickly backstepped out of another strike from the driver.

"My name is Laith!" he called out to her as the driver moved his arm back, positioning for another strike. The young Teifling winked at her and once again sidestepped the strike, this time he lunged towards the drivers legs, gave the man's trousers a hard swift tug to pull them to the ankles, and with the driver's pants around his feet Laith shouldered him, knocking the man off balance and to the cobblestone. Bystanders were beginning to call the authorities so Laith gave the bewildered girl a sly smile and a small farewell salute before darting off into a nearby ally. A few days passed before he saw the stagecoach again, and he only took a few steps forward before the driver saw and prominently displayed his whip. Laith dare not approach. He stood casually until a wealthy, fat, old man came out from a nearby store and entered the stagecoach. The driver had never taken his eyes off Laith, and even when they began moving he didn't break eye contact until he saw Laith wasn't budging. When they rounded a corner Laith followed.

He followed them to a moderate sized fenced estate adjacent to a white sand beach. That night he memorized the patterns of the two guards patrolling the grounds of the estate and under the cover of darkness he encircled the home until he saw her through a window. Quickly he weighed the pros and cons of what he was doing. Pros: She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Cons: He followed her home and was watching her through a window. He was struggling to find a way to make that last con look good. He waited until an hour past midnight before he knocked on her window and a few more moments before he knocked again. Confused and apprehensive she answered. Laith reached into his pocket and pulled out the same flower, insisting it wasn't fair he never learned her name.

"You followed me home?" she inquired.

"Well, I can't speak to you in public without your driver whipping the shit out of me."

"Because I'm a slave," she said incredulously before looking outside nervously, likely searching for the patrol. "Whether I speak back to you or not, you giving me this attention could get me in trouble, how do you not understand that?"

Laith couldn't think of a way to defend himself. He understood but conveniently chose to push it out of his mind for a pretty girl.

"Ira", she said guardedly as she took the flower and rolled the stem between her fingers inspecting it. Laith smiled and asked where she was from. She was silent, and instead held out her hand to return the gift and insisted it was time he left. It was a gift he reassured with a sheepish smile, pushing her hand back. "Farenthaes," she said quietly as she tossed the flower out the window and closed the wood shutters.

She was a slave, but she didn't have to be. The laws in this land were fast a loose. If you could steal something fair and square then it was yours. The notion that he was considering stealing another human being was not lost on him and being honest with himself he didn't care. Besides, if he could get her out he would take her to freedom, he wouldn't force her to be anyone's property, he was doing a good deed. He imagined once he saved her though she would be fawning over him. He'd be like Nobir Dooh, the legendary scoundrel who stole from the rich and gave to the poor but he'd be stealing a woman and giving her freedom. Which she would then use to fawn over him.

He had been to Farenthaes before, a few times in fact. That morning as his crew sailed off to their next destination he stayed ashore and rented a room. He scoured through his possessions until he found a bracelet made of wooden beads with what he presumed was Thaesan script. She was a slave and he was counting on her being lonely and he thought there was a chance he could manipulate his way into her bed. At nightfall he returned and again knocked on her window at an hour past midnight. When she didn't answer he left the bracelet in the windowsill. The next night he returned once more and became hopeful when he saw the bracelet was absent. Again he knocked on her window and this time she answered.

"You need to stop," she scolded as she outstretched her arm, the bracelet clenched in a fist presented before him. She shook her fist and continued, "You could get me in serious trouble for this. Do you not understand or do you not care"

He didn't care; he feigned realization. "I'm sorry," he replied solemnly as he reclaimed the bracelet. She heard the deflation in his voice and sighed. She assured was a wonderful gift but she couldn't keep it. "I thought you'd miss home," he concluded.

"I do, but I can't keep it."

He stood for a moment looking at the bracelet and waiting for her to shut the shutters and retreat into her room but she didn't. She just stood there looking at him. Perhaps the gesture warmed her to him, or maybe out of pity she asked, "are you religious?"

"No, why?"

"That's a prayer bracelet."

"Is it?"

"Yes, look at the script," she said gesturing to the bracelet.

"I thought it was poetry or something," he admitted.

"How?" she asked incredulously.

He shrugged, "well I can't read Thaesan."

A bewildered look shot across her face, "That's common."

"Oh, well they look similar."

"What? No they don't," a smile crept across her face.

"Honestly I can't read at all," he said matter of factly with a shrug.

The smile grew and she chuckled. A sneeze from around the corner pierced their attention and Laith scrambled behind a nearby bush while Ira swiftly closed the shutters. A guard walked by none the wiser. A couple minutes later the shutters opened and Laith crawled out from cover. Again they stood in silence, the light from the gibbous moon casting itself over her pale skin, her blonde hair glistened and her eyes shone like glorious peridots and she wore a sleek white nightgown which clung to her body. Laith was working hard to commit the vision to memory. She stepped back and motioned for him to climb inside, but pressing a finger tightly against her lips. He did so. The room was small, much smaller then what he had imagined for a house so large. The room was sparse with only a rug, dresser, a small bed, and a nightstand. She closed the window and darkness engulfed his vision. He felt her hand on his tricep, goosebumps raised on his skin and he felt anxious. She tugged downwards and he took the cue to sit on the floor. He could hear her step around him and the creaking of the bed as she sat down.

She couldn't be more five feet from his face but his eyes hadn't yet adjusted; he couldn't see anything. She asked his name, what he did when he wasn't stalking her, how long he'd been sailing and all the places he'd been. Under hushed voices they talked about Farenthaes at length, about the art the fashion and the land.

"Farentheas is probably one of the better places i've seen," Laith concluded.

"The art there is great."

"Yeah," he agreed unenthusiastically. As a sailor, he was more keen on the sexual liberties the people there embraced. He did, however, recall one occasion where he had watched a play he rather enjoyed, "The plays there are pretty great."

"They were my sisters' favorite."

"You have sisters?"

"I had sisters," she corrected.

"Oh," Laith said cooly, not really wanting to turn the conversation to a sour topic.

"What about you, any siblings?"

"None," he lied. "I drove my mom mad, another one or two like me would've been the end of her."

"Yeah you seem like you're pretty unbearable," she concurred.

"I'm an upstanding citizen," he protested. "Remember the day we met when I stopped your carriage driver from whipping that poor boy."

"He was whipping you."

"Let's not split hairs here. The point is I intervened."

"You're so dumb," she said smiling.

He smiled back, winked, and walked to the dresser and began fiddling with a knob. "Tell me about your family."

She shrugged, "I haven't seen them in a long time."

"You said you had sisters?"

"Yeah," she began. A brief moment of silence ensued as she measured what she wanted to share. Finally, with sorrow she continued, "My sisters and I used to love to swim. Every day we would go to the beach and play in the ocean. We used to watch the ships pass by, their sails like giant clouds carrying people to far off lands. We used to guess where we'd be when we grew up, what kind of lives we'd have. We thought we'd be free. Our master always treated us kindly, we were his daughters, and he looked after our mom well. She'd tell us one day he was going to set us all free. He never did, instead, he died and we were sold off like the rest of his property."

Her voice grew quieter and Laith found himself leaning forward, "We were all separated. I never thought being a slave was so bad, but I never thought it could be like this." She was silent, staring downwards and massaging the bracelet between her fingers. She then held it out for Laith," Thank you, it's a wonderful gift but I can't keep it. If anyone found it I could be beaten."

Laith stood walked over and took the bracelet. "I understand," he said as he gave her a considerate look. With her being a slave he had originally he thought he could find some way to take advantage of her. Now a powerful wave of guilt was creeping in.

"What about you?" She asked.

"My mom died," he stated plainly.

"What was she like?"

Now he messaged the bracelet between his fingers, "She was wonderful. She loved music, she could play all sorts of instruments and could sing. She was funny, sarcastic, and when she smiled she always did this half-smile kind of thing," he explained as he gave an example, raising only one corner of his mouth in a wide grin. "She loved the stars and could name all the constellations. I never listened though, I wasn't really interested in what she liked. I always wanted to do my own thing." A pause and a strong pang of sorrow struck his heart, "I wish I appreciated her more when she was alive."

Another pause, then Ira inquired, "And your dad?"

"I'm a bastard," he said quickly.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, if I had two parents harping on me growing up I'd be insane now," he stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes. In the dark he could see her grin. They spoke a little longer, then she yawned and he declared it was probably time he took his leave. His eyes had adjusted at this point but he asked if she could lead him to the window; he could see the room but he wanted her to touch him again. She lead him to the window and bid him a good night.

He lay in bed that night feeling guilty and second-guessing himself. The next day he began to fantasize spiriting her away from this land, to Islamyria or somewhere she could be free. He imagined her choosing to stay with him once she was free. She ought to be free he thought. He wasted the day until he returned to her window that night, as always being careful to evade patrol. When she didn't answer after a third knock his heart sunk slightly. It sunk more the next night when again there was no response. He thought to try once more before just moving on. This time, however, she answered.

"You need to stop," she whispered urgently

"I'm not going to let you be a slave," he replied stearnly.

"What?"

She was baffled but he continued, "I'm not going to let you be a slave. I can get you out of here, my crew smuggles people all the time." That was a lie. "I'm the best at getting places unseen." That was true.

"Why do you care?"

"You don't deserve this. No one deserves this," he added. Quite truthfully at that.

She was silent, appearing to gather her thoughts and unsure of how to respond. Once again she stepped back and allowed him to climb in. She closed the shutters and turned to him. He explained that he had stayed behind the day they met but his crew would be back in two or three months. When they returned he could convince the captain to take a contract that would take them to Islamaryia. He concluded, "If there's even a chance that this is a risk worth taking, take it. I can do this for you I swear. It's a huge risk but if it's one you want to take I want to help."

"Are you sure your captain would help?" she replied.

"I know he would."

"Why?"

"He's like a father to me. I don't have any doubt in my mind he would help." She was silent, he continued, "Think on it, I'll be back in two days." He turned around and went to open the shutters but felt a hand on his shoulder. He paused, stopped, then turned around. They stood silent then she walked to her bed and sat, folding her legs beneath her. He could feel her eyes on him and imagined what all of this looked like from her perspective. He walked away from the window and sat in front of her on the bed.

"Tell me more about you," she requested.

"What do you want to know?"

"Why do you trust your captain so much?"

"I've been sailing under him for four years. After that long you get to know people pretty well."

"Why is he like a father to you?"

Laith hesitated, it took him a moment to contextualize his trust, "He took me under his wing when I was just thirteen. He taught me everything I know about sailing and entrusts me with a lot of responsibilities. We have a very close relationship. He's a mentor. At sea, he's saved my ass once or twice. He's earned my trust."

She sat silent, appearing to mull over his response, then asked, "Do you always want to sail?"

He thought so, he replied. Then they talked a little more about his role on the ship, a few experiences he's had, and a little about his fellow crew. Then he let slip that he had been sailing with his captain, Linden Shrine, since he left his family.

She quickly caught the slip, "you said you were a bastard."

"I am." She raised an eyebrow; the answer wasn't good enough. He elaborated, "I had a stepfather growing up, siblings too, but I was never his kid. It's not something I like to talk about. I was always a bastard and he never wanted me around. So when my mom died I left and talked my way on to Linden's crew."

"And found a new family?"

"Exactly. They count on me, Linden counts on me, and I make him proud. It's a good feeling, you know?" Laith concluded, "He's like a father."

"I see," she said simply. Laith shifted uncomfortably, he never intended nor ever had any desire to share as much about himself as he had. It made him feel vulnerable. "Are you good at your job?"

"The best," he said as a matter of fact. He bragged, "I can sneak up to a deer and touch it without it ever realizing I'm there."

"Oh wow, that's incredible!" Her voice was saturated with sarcasm, clearly not buying the exaggeration.

"Yeah, I'm pretty amazing."

"Can you spell deer?"

"That's a low blow," he said feigning an exasperated look. She smiled, he smiled back.

They talked at great lengths about his trade and the different wildlife of the lands he'd been to. They talked about the sea and what wild lands might be beyond the horizon. She thought it would be incredibly exciting to go on a grand voyage and he imagined what places he would show her. Then she shared a bit more of her own upbringing with him and explained that when she had lived in Farenthaes she was raised to practice poetry and art because the nobles expected as much from their personal servants. She remarked it was a cute coincidence that he thought the prayer beads were poetry considering she practices the art.

"Could I see some?" Laith asked

"You can't read."

"I can read some."

"You thought common was Thaesan, I'm not sure if you could convince me you've seen a word before," she jabbed.

He laughed, maybe a little too loud because she immediately shoved her hand over his mouth. When she removed it he asked if she'd read it to him. She stood, walked to her dresser and removed a small leatherbound book with a tightly strung yellow ribbon tying it shut. She opened the book, sat next to him again and whispered some passages about the moon, the ocean, travel, and life. Every third word felt like something he had never heard before and he had a difficult time comprehending most of it. He wasn't a big fan of poetry, he liked things that could be sold for gold, but through her words he caught glimpses of her feelings and thoughts. That he liked. She would read a passage and asked what he thought, and he would do his best to explain how he interpreted what she had said. She seemed happy to be sharing this with someone, and ten or so pages in she closed the book explaining that the rest of the pages were more or less the same.

"Could you write me something?" asked earnestly

"You couldn't read it."

"No, but i'd have it."

She smiled warmly, "I'll write something for you."

He wanted to kiss her, but he had never kissed a girl he hadn't paid before and was nervous. While she was reading he had gradually been shifting closer to her to the point where their knees where now touching. He leaned forward and instinctively she pulled back. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated hushedly as he shot to his feet, wiping his sweaty palms against his trousers. He couldn't see her expression clearly in the low light but he thought he saw confusion. He hurried to the window but before he opened it to climb out he explained himself, "I don't want to help you because I want something from you. I want to help you because no one should be owned." It was true now.


She stood up, he froze. She walked over to him and grabbed his hand and leaned forward, kissing him on the cheek. She gave his hand a squeeze a smiled, "I don't believe you can help me, but I like talking to you. I could get in series trouble for this but this is the first time i've been happy in a very long time." Ira touched his cheek. "You cant't come every night though. Once a week."

"Once a week," he affirmed. "Once a week from now until my crew is back."

For three months he wondered if their luck would ever run out. If one night someone would burst down the door or window and expose them both. He feared what would happen to her if such a thing came to pass but it never did. Each time he felt more invincible than the last and by the end of three months, he was confident he could pull this off. Nothing had failed go his way and all the ramifications of what could come from his actions seemed like a distant fear that could never be realized. He loved her, he thought, and he could feel something from her as well. She, however, always kept in touch with reality and never lost her fear, though she trusted him. At the end of the third month his crew was back and immediately he sought out his captain, Linden Shrine. He told him of everything that had happened and his captain seemed gleeful at the tale, slapping him on the back and expressing his joy at what a ladies man he had become. When he told him where she lived there were a pause and a flicker of an expression that shot across his eyes.

Laith was young and only subconsciously picked up the signal but didn't know what to make of it. He trusted the man implicitly, he had worked for Linden over the past four years. He was the closest thing to a father figure he had. That night just before dawn, as he had planned for months, he spirited Ira away. She was wrapped in one of his cloaks to conceal her identity and snuck her through the streets and onto his vessel. The crew were preparing the ship for departure and didn't give it much more than a curious glance as it wasn't uncommon to book passage for family or friends provided there was room to spare, which there was. In the cabin, they waited anxiously. Linden said he would they would set sail at daybreak and he would be down to meet this lovely lady which has bewitched Laith's heart. At daybreak, the ship had not budged. Ira was growing visibly frightened and there was a nagging feeling that something was awry, but Laith pushed the instinct aside.

"Something's not right," Ira seemed to confirm.

"He's just late," Laith said turning to face her. "Trust me."

"I trust you," she said with a small, fragile close-lipped smile.

The door burst open, Ira shot to her feet and disbelief spread across Laith's face. In the doorway stood not Linden but a thug with two more at his back. Slowly the first entered, Laith felt his heart sink and Ira grabbed his hand. He turned to face her and saw the look a man makes when they know death is coming: acceptance with the eyes only barely making a wave of fear. Or the feeling when something so absurd is happening you no longer feel like your in your body but watching from some other perspective. He felt it too, then he felt her lips on his.

He bagged then beaten there on the ship. He heard Ira cry out and those screams get fainter as the boots continued to bear down on him. He could feel the blood pooling in the bag around his head as he was beaten to within an inch of his life on his own ship. He was brought to the city guard where the case was made against him that he should be blinded for coveting and stealing another man's slave. The punishment was reduced to a single eye. There wasn't any pain when he lost his eye or when he was beaten. His crew's betrayal was painful. That he never saw Ira again was worse still.

At first he considered throwing himself into the sea. Then he spent years searching for her, then more years hunting Linden for revenge. After many years of no luck with either he gave up and pushed the memories out of his thoughts. Though on quiet nights or in still moments of reflection guilt over her fate would sweep over him, or murderous rage at Linden for his betrayel. He found new crews though forming a working trust in people again took some. Eventually he got over it and life returned to a semblance of normality.
___________________________________________________________________

Ten years later Laith found himself on the shores of Oshanlenor for the first time in a decade. Laith stood solemn, looking out to the sea, a recruitment poster held loosely in his right hand.

Hex Color:#D51
 
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[fieldbox="Avalin Castor, goldenrod, solid, 5, Palatino Linotype"]
Name: Avalin Castor
Race: Human
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: 32
Appearance: About 5’5” (166cm). Slender, with fair skin and flowing light brown hair, eyes the tint of honeyed caramel. Avalin is often dressed in what some might categorize as excessive regalia, causing her to exude a sense of unnecessary wealth. She wears fine leathers and exotic silks, her coat adorned with gold chainlets.

Role: Sea Artist / Navigator

Strengths:
Internal Compass - Excellent sense of direction. Avalin uses whatever tools available to her - position of the sun, orientation of the stars, or other actual tools like an astrolabe or a quadrant.
Swift and Sure of Foot - An experienced sailor, Avalin is quick and light on her feet and has excellent balance. She uses movement to her advantage.
Business-Minded - Knowledgeable in the art of making a sale and in the value of good word-of-mouth.
Social Chameleon - Able to read situations and social environments, Avalin can adjust her manner of speaking and her demeanor to help fit in, whether that is to make others at ease in a business deal, or to simply make herself stick out less than she already does.

Weaknesses:
Never Enough - Avalin's greed is hard to sate. The moment she obtains more is often followed by the moment she doesn't have enough. She will jump at any opportunity to obtain riches, or any things rare or priceless.
Everyone Has a Price - The belief that for the right amount of coin, anyone and anything can be bought.
Scapegoating - Deeply-rooted unwillingness to accept blame and responsibility for failures or losses. Shifts blame whenever possible, even if it means blaming the gods.
Spatial Duelist - Avalin is a relatively inexperienced fighter, and only has basic fundamentals of swordplay without much real combat experience. She moves well but needs open spaces to make use of her talents. Without enough room, her physical weakness and lack of training make her a liability.

Biography:
Avalin hails from a land far away from Oshanlenor and Faranthaes. There, the Castor family is well known as a family of map-makers and cartographers, a craft which has been passed down for generations. Handcrafted maps vary widely in quality and accuracy, and at least where Avalin comes from, Castor maps are highly regarded as being of exceptional craftsmanship and fidelity.

While the mapmaking craft in the Castor family is typically only passed down from fathers to sons, Avalin has no brothers and is the eldest of three girls in her generation. Her father, Koren Castor, not wanting for the family’s livelihood to suffer and realizing that Avalin seemed disinterested in sewing and cooking at a young age, took Avalin under his wing. She was taught to study the world through the lens of a discerning eye, and frequently accompanied her father on expeditions to further their knowledge of the world around them.

Naturally, she needed to learn to defend herself as well, in order to prepare for the dangers of the open seas. While Koren was not the most fluent swordsman, he was able to instill Avalin with the fundamentals and with an understanding of the theory of combat. So while Avalin’s execution in some instances is lacking, she has been able to utilize her relatively small stature and quick movement to gain advantages over stronger opponents.

While on a journey to farther reaches of land even beyond Aswenor, she was thrown off course by a deadly storm and had her ship wrecked near Oshanlenor. Separated from her crew, now she is a human woman of wealth in cutthroat lands where humans are ill-regarded. One of her best options to gain the coin necessary to return home - and to further her map knowledge - comes in the form of a written notice by one Captain Draymor Wynmaris...

Hex colour: #C94
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Name: Davina

Race: Aasimar with High Elven Heritage

Sex/Gender: Female

Age: 21

Appearance:
Davina stands at 5’2” ½ and weighs 121 lbs; she appears small, but is not a weak child. Her ears are pointed and her skin is fair, albeit somewhat tan due to being out in the sun often. She dyed her blonde hair and cut it as a way of ‘disguising’ who she really was. Her short brown chin-length hair is a bit choppy and tousled at the ends, with fine pieced out layers in between.

She has multiple scars on various parts of her body, though none are visible, due to being covered up by a long sleeve green shirt, brown pants, and worn out leather boots. She wears a brown corset belt and a small necklace with a blue jewel to complete her average everyday outfit. Davina’s high cheekbones and pronounced square jaw are her most prominent features.

Role: Apprentice Sea Artist

Strengths:
Insight - Davina has great observation skills. She can catch onto certain ulterior motives, spotting lies, and other things through discernment of body language, speech, habits, and mannerisms. Her observation skills also allow her to spot details in objects and/or situations her fellow crewmates may not otherwise pick up on.

Dexterous - The cunning and skillful use of her hands allow her to take care of the smallest knots, mark down the most intricate of details, and produce extremely beautiful penmanship. Davina’s dexterity also makes her a prime candidate for handling navigational tools quickly and efficiently, as well as scaling rough terrain when the need arises.

Weaknesses:
Bad Liar - As much as Davina tries to persuade and get into the good graces of her crew mates without having them worry too much about her (if they even do worry), Davina is a terrible liar. She’s quite secretive, and although good intentions are well within her, her penchant for keeping things to herself often and being strange when asked certain questions has led to suspicion.

Guarded - Davina has a strong “survival of the fittest” philosophy, therefore finds it difficult to sympathize with her fellow crewmates and strangers in times of chaos and vulnerability. Her hard-hearted demeanor also makes it difficult for Davina to seem likeable and able to relate with others as well, including the Master Sea Artist.

Biography:
Davina grew up as a wealthy merchant’s daughter in Farenthaes to an aasimar mother and high elven father. The family was extremely devout to Hisani and despite the prejudice they received, let faith guide their actions and decisions. Davina was taught religion, the arts, and the sciences under a private tutor named Alakor, a tiefling was knowledgeable in a variety of topics, particularly astronomy and art history. The two grew closer than Alakor would’ve liked, and upon Alakor’s refusal to enter a relationship that was anything more than mentor and student, Davina left home at sixteen to undergo an apprenticeship with an artisan printmaker in Oshanlenor.

Oshanlenor was always romanticized in Davina’s mind; people told her of the amazing opportunity it held, but none told her of the harsh reality that awaited her upon meeting her new mentor. Davina and the printmaker’s relationship was not sweet nor practical. She was immediately “claimed” upon her arrival and branded on the left side of her shoulder to denote his ownership to the young aasimar. Davina tried many times to escape, but he always found her and tortured her mentally every time she made the mistake of believing her spirit could not be broken.

Six years later, the printmaker had never touched her pretty body, and six years into slavery, Davina realized that she could not continue on this way. She snuck out early morning one day and obtained a liquid herb at the apothecary known to cause certain death within a few hours upon consumption, if not used correctly. That afternoon was the first time she ever felt his hand come into contact with her skin once he’d realized she’d poisoned him and the sting had been more than enough for her to curl up and sob. He beat her until he grew tired and weary, until he no longer had the strength to stand and kick her in the stomach or pull her hair around like a rag doll. A part of Davina was ashamed of the act that she’d committed, but another part of her felt as though she’d done something courageous, something brave.

Davina dyed her hair, cut it, and took care of her wounds as best she could in an attempt to remain anonymous in Mirgho’s Harbor. She donned a dark cloak early mornings and returned to the printmaker's shop during the afternoon and kept up appearances for the sake of safety. Upon seeing a notice for potential crew members of the Burnt Hand one morning outside of a bar, Davina found her chance to hopefully be free from a life of oppression and misguidance and took her chances with being hired as an apprentice sea artist on board.

Hex colour: #18D
 
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  • Bucket of Rainbows
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Name: Meandin "Mea" Sharo
Race: Aasimar
Sex/Gender: Female
Age: 25
Appearance: Mea stands at 5' 7" and has a slim physique. She is slightly muscular, from her occupation requiring her to carry some heavier cargo. Her skin is a creamy white, with golden undertones and a soft pink seeming to always play on her cheeks. Mea's face can be described as sharp. Her eyes are striking and almond shaped. Her irises are golden, one of the tells to her celestial heritage. Mea's hair is stark white, another Aasimar trait on her otherwise human body. She keeps it cut short for combat reasons, as well to keep cool during the hot days of Islamyria. When not wearing her guard uniform, she would wear tight fitting trousers and a loose, billowy shirt, common of a coastal city. She didn't often wear hats, but did wear headscarves if the heat was too high. On the ship, she wears what clothes were given to her when she came aboard.

Role: Apprentice Cook

Strengths:
  • Sword Arm: Mea is pretty decent with a sword due to her training with travelling swordsmen that went through Islamyria. While she is no soldier or master, she can hold her own to protect herself. She prefers longswords over any other sword, but has been trying to train in secret with a cutlass.
  • Fast: Mea is a fast runner. While she may not be the most graceful, she does have speed on her side. She got used to chasing down runners from her time as a city guard.
  • Strong: While not able to lift huge amounts of weight, Mea is actually quite strong. Her arms are muscular from lifting cargo and sword training. She can definitely help on decks to lift cargo and other things.
  • (Mostly) Lawful: One cannot be very lawful on a pirate ship, but Mea tries her best to abide by whatever laws bind her at the time. She does not necessarily live by one set of laws because she knows that can get her killed. On a pirate ship, she follows the rules of the ship. In Islamyria, she follows the laws of the city. Of course, there are always situations where rules can be broken.
  • Survivalist: Being born and mostly raised poor, Mea still has that mindset. She does what she can to survive. Mea can easily make one meal last for five, she can make something out of nothing. She doesn't like to break rules, but if it involves her personal safety or the safety of those she cares for, rules can be bent. She isn't very good at theft, but she knows the basics of lifting food and small items for survival.
Weaknesses:
  • Judgmental: Almost racist, Mea has a dislike of drow and elves. She mistrusts them and she doesn't mind letting that show. She doesn't mind humans, but she tends to assume they are not intelligent because of their lower status. Tieflings are all prideful and generally not nice people, according to her, but isn't as wary of them. Mea also has a general mistrust of men, for what she thinks is good reason.
  • Ungraceful: Mea is not a dancing butterfly, her feet never touching the ground, Mea is honestly quite clumsy. Her grace has been improving with sword training, but she is not light on her feet. She isn't all that great at sneaking around or silencing her foot falls.
  • Low Constitution: When it comes to alcohol or spoiled food, Mea cannot hold it. She gets ill easily, and drunk even easier. When she drinks, she doesn't need much to get drunk, meaning she doesn't like to. The first couple of weeks on the ship were hell, but she's gotten used to it.
  • Festering Vengeance: Mea does not forget what has happened to her in the past, and she definitely does not forgive. She knows if she ever met the man who forced himself upon her she would kill him. She wants vengeance against everyone who has wronged her and her family, and will not be pleased until she gets it.
  • Short Tempered: Mea is just as likely to talk out a situation with a person as she is to drive a knife into their gut. She is not diplomatic and can often ruin any sort of agreement she had with someone, leading to a bad situation for everyone involved.

Biography: Mea was born to a pair of aasimar who ranked quite low on the ladder of society in Islamyria. The family made their way by making simple pottery and selling it to other poor families for a modest price. While it wasn't enough to make them wealthy by any means, they at least were not beggars on the streets and could afford living quarters and just enough food to keep them from starving.

When Mea was born, her parents were determined that she would live a better life than they were, and worked harder to give the girl what she needed to grow into a strong young woman. When she was six years old, her father was killed at the command of a noblewoman because of a minor infraction. This put a damper on the family's finances, but her mother worked hard to keep up the business as well as take care of Mea. With her mother at the wheel, their pottery business became slightly more artistic in nature, and began selling to some middle class families. They began to make more money, meaning Mea didn't grow up entirely impoverished.

At age 14, Mea was introduced roughly into the world of intimacy by an Elven man. He did not seem noble, but he was definitely not just a common man either. She was used and tossed away. After the night she was ravaged, she made sure to keep herself safe from any more attacks such as those. She made an oath to learn to fight for herself, and with what money she could save up, she was able to persuade various travelling swordsmen to teach her the basics of swordsmanship. She began to enjoy it more than she intended, and began to dream of a more exciting life than making pottery.

When Mea was 16, her mother passed away, leaving the girl to fend for herself. She took over the pottery business for a short while, until one day she came home to find her shop sacked and her tools destroyed. Instead of starting over, she decided to join the town guard and follow the route she wanted. Of course, one did not just join the town guard, and she struggled in becoming employed. She did odd jobs in between to keep from starving, but was determined to join the guard.

When she turned 19, she was accepted into their ranks after years of pestering. She was assigned simple tasks at first, but through hard work she gained trust and was assigned to the docks. She was a cargo inspector, and was very good at her job. It didn't come without danger, however, and Mea had various spots of trouble. Her job was harsh and many sailors didn't see her as any sort of authority. She persisted, and became well known on the docks as one of the most capable ones there.

Mea's career as a guard came to an end when a group of Drow slavers captured the young woman in hopes of selling her on the island of Oshanlenor as a slave. She was tossed in a ship where she was assaulted and raped with other prisoners. She stayed quiet and submissive during the journey, knowing she had little chance of escaping in the middle of the ocean. When they docked on the island, however, Mea escaped from their grasp and was pursued. This is when she stumbled across another crew and begged for them to save her. Surprisingly, they agreed to let her on in exchange for her labor. She quickly agreed, hoping to eventually get home and back to her work. She became an unpaid member of the Burnt Hands, used for busy work and cleaning with no pay and only a burlap dress to her name.

After some time on the ship, Mea was given simple clothing to make her look decently presentable. She has earned some trust among the crew and has been "promoted" to help in the galley instead of being a generic laborer. She has little trust for the captain of the ship and tries to keep away from him, as well as other male elven and drow members of the ship. She does not particularly like her situation, but she prefers it over being a sex slave. She fears returning to her post and being taken once again.


Hex colour: #177
 
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[fieldbox="Jexxal Felethrin, #588, solid"]

Name:Jexxal Felethrin
Race:Wood elf
Sex/Gender:Male
Age:28
Appearance: Thanks to his Elvish heritage this 6'3 (192 cm)has always had a lean frame and olive tone skin. He wears his dark brown hair long, cut out of his face, with braids on either side of his head. Years of service with the guard have made sure his lean muscles are wiry and well defined. His sharp features and hawkish nose seem to be permanently set in a grimace but the moment he smiles his face becomes much more open and friendly.

Currently Jexxal is wounder in several places from his recent confrontation. With several small nicks and cuts on his arms his only two serious injures are a deep gash just below his collar bone and another across his calf. Both had been hastily bandaged but may need another look at from the ships Surgeon. (WINK WINK NUDGE NUDGE)


Role:Gunner

Strengths:

Eye For Distance - What sets Jexxal apart from other Gunners is not a quick firing rate or special ammo. Its the ability to accurately shoot at the max distance of a Ballistae. While Jexxal will hit a target 300 yards out 80% of the time while other gunners might make the same shot 20%

Quick Learner - Jexxal always had things come easy to him. Whether its something explained to him or just something he watched someone do he can quickly grasp a concept and do it himself.

Never Give Up - It does not matter how many time you knock Jexxal to the ground. If he has even an ounce of strength or willpower left in him he will get back up again. Whether hes protecting someone from harm or enduring torture, he will keep fighting till the end.

Sea Artist - No Jexxal is not a good navigator as the name implies. In fact he would get lost walking from on district to the next. Jexxal is simply good at painting, mainly the sea. Though Jexxal often does not have the money for paint or canvas, when he does he can make beautiful works of art.

Weaknesses:

Landlubber - Although hes lived on an island his whole life hes never really had any experience on a boat. His inexperience could hurt the crew without any training while their out on sea.

Will Do No Wrong - Even though Jexxal has joined a crew of a ship it does not make him a pirate. He came to earn coin for those who need it and only took this job because no innocents would be hurt from following a map. If that ever changes, Jexxal will easily abandon the ship or try to bring them down in the name of justice.

Back Stabbed - Jexxal never really had people he was close to. Since his parents death he had been alone. The only group he trusted were his brothers in arms in the guard. So when his brothers tried to kill him they not only almost succeed they strip him of being able to trust.

Wanted - No one but him knows the real story behind his dead guardsmen. With Jexxal missing from his post and his direct superior dead, it wont take long for people to put two and two together though. Coming home to Oshanlenor will not be easy with his face plastered everywhere.


Biography:
Born and raised in Oshanlenor Jexxal had always been a devout follower of Qwint the goddess of justice and mercy. It was one of the few things he received from his parents along with the insignia of his faith and his fathers sword. Orphaned at a young age Jexxals life was rough on the streets. Alone and starving for several years till the day a elderly man took him in. A retired solder the older man wasn't the best caretaker, but he had his heart in the right place. He told the boy stories of him protecting people onboard merchant ships, and even taught Jexxal how to use the blade he managed to keep with him all these years.

Maybe that's why Jexxal joined the guard the day he turned of age. His only wish in life was to help people like that man had helped him. He trained with the guard in Mirgho's Harbor every day for several years, excelling in both swordcraft and the even more so the ballistae as time went on. When he was 22 years of age a desperate band tried to raid a ship that was heading into their port. Some say it was luck but Jexxal with only three volleys of missiles from the ballistae he manned managed to crack its keel and send it to the bottom of the see. .

He earned a promotion that day and moved to Keelibrel where he he learned what being a guard on Oshanlenor was really about.
Maybe he was too naive to see it before but now the corruption and brutality of the guard plain view for him. They forced the workers their to bribe them to keep them safe and they punished those who couldn't pay by working them half to death. Jexxal couldn't just confront his brothers in arms without any proof however. He suffered watching them commit these crimes while gathering evidence to bring to his officer. When he did, he learned another harsh lesson, that corruption runs deep.

Feigning to help Jexxal his superior Officer Balin led him to these officers to confront them once in for all. Instead they attacked them the moment he arrived, forcing him to fight for his life against his fellow guardsmen. Jexxal somehow survived their onslaught, turning the tide and slaying the four men. No one would believe his story if he told it nor would they care he realized. SO the wounded guardsman ran from his post, making his was back to Mirghos Harbor were he thought he could hide. That was when he found Draynors poster and decided that this was his best chance to earn the coin he needed to help those he left behind to suffer and to escape capture for the crimes he was forced to commit.

Hex colour:#588
[/fieldbox]
 





BASICS

Name
Seldana

Race
Moon Elf

Sex/Gender
Female

Age
76 years old

Role
Cabin girl or Surgeon

Hex Color
#590
APPEARANCE
Standing at the height of five feet and eight inches, her height is smaller compared to her peers. Although not lacking in growth per se, - as evidenced by her figure as she is in possession of comparatively long and limber limbs, a narrow waist with widening hips, and a reasonably proportioned bustline - she certainly seem quite young, even more so than she appears. Her soft pale skin affinities for both a great deal of personal hygiene and genetics, the former which is equally demonstrated in her somewhat short straight locks of light blonde hair, which is silky in their smoothness.

Her face is oval shaped with not so prominent cheeks; rosy white skin framed on either side by her blonde locks, a petite nose and unobtrusive dull chin.

Her most distinguishable feature was the small vine like scars underneath her eyes.

Over all, she's the pure depiction of innocence.
STRENGTHS
Intuition
lead by her instincts, Seldana takes the right decisions at an opportune time. She is so intuitive that she can easily read the mind of other people. This also helps her become great at making strategies.



Persuasive
Seldana is the kind of person who can easily persuade anyone thanks to her innocent look. She can also be manipulative so she can outlast any adversary. She is willing to use any type of persuasion just so she can get what is needed

Domestic Goddess
Her cooking and cleaning skills are impeccable.

Resourceful and Crafty
Thanks to her thirst for knowledge, Seldana loves reading booksband learned how to be resourceful. She can easily craft and make things with just the available resources.
WEAKNESSES
Damsel in Distress
Even though she knows basic hand combat, she usually finds herself in situations where she needed to be saved if not helped by someone.

Unquenchable thirst
Seldana is always curious and looking for knowldege. Ideas are well and good, but Seldana needs to see and explore for herself whether her ideas ring true. She also tends to stick her nose in other people's business that often gets her into trouble.

Lost Compass
Seldana has no sense of direction whatsoever. She can easily get lost everywhere and always walk in the wrong direction. She can also get confused by her own directions.

Clean freak
Seldana developed odd illness where she needs to make sure everything is spic and span so that she can avoid diseases or sickness. That means she constantly make sure everything around her is clean as well as her own self.
BIOGRAPHY

After a violent storm, an elven couple in Wreaft's Row, Oshenlenor named Mi'tilarro and Amaranthae discovered a ten-year-old female elf shipwrecked on their shore. Feeling pity and believing that the female elf was a gift from the goddess Hisani, the couple decided to adopt her and name her Seldana.

Even though Seldana knew she was adopted and found on shore with no recollection of her past and just a necklace on her neck, she grew up full of love and happiness. Her adoptive parents and brother loved her like their own. They learned that Seldana was very intellectual and decided to help her develop it. Her father who owns an apothecary always brought her to educational business trips and taught her about medicine and anatomy while her adoptive mother taught her art. Her adoptive brother on the other hand was a royal guard who taught her basic hand combat.

Roughly sixty years later while she was on a business trip in Islamyria, an old man roughly grabbed her out of nowhere and asked if she knows where Itham was. She was confused if not baffled since she never heard of that name before and upon asking the old man why he thought she knew that name, he merely pointed at her necklace and left.

That encounter sparked hope in Seldana's past. Although she loved her family dearly and she's happy with them, she had been always curious of who she really is. She wanted to know who her real parents are and if they are alive. Thus, Seldana decided to stay in Islamyria until she find the old man and perhaps the answer to her questions.

Months passed and Seldana did find the old man in one of the taverns. She paid him a hefty amount money just so she can get some answers and he did not disappoint. He told her that the necklace she was wearing, where a pendant of a sea serpent circling an owl, was a crest of a pirate ship. He also told her that Itham was the captain of that said ship and that no one knew where he is. When Seldana asked if Itham ever had a daughter, the old man replied with a shrug and told her that its possible since pirates dock in islands and bed women there.

Seldana couldn't believe it. She knew the man could be lying to her but her guts told her that he isn't. Seldana then immediately went back home to Wreaft's Row and told her adoptive parents about it before deciding that she's planning to find Itham. Of course her adoptive parents were highly against the idea but that didn't stop her. For the first time in her life she lied to them and told them that she wasn't planning to find Itham anymore. Her parents believed her and since then she laid low.

To be honest she had no concreate idea on how to find Itham but upon seeing a poster about a captain hiring a crew in Mighor's Harbor while she was on her way to the apothecary, it inspired her. Why not join the crew?

That very same night she packed her bags and wrote a letter to her parents and brother before running away. She knew that by running away she's breaking her family's heart but she can't help it! She need to find out who she is and who her real parents are.

Now standing at the docks in Mighor's Harbor was Seldana, waiting for the captain's order.
TRIVIA

» Seldana likes reading books and is great at doing research

»Although 76 years old, there are a lot of things she lacks experience of

» After running away, her brother decided to hunt her down and return her home

»Hates the smell of fish

»Obsessed with folklores and mythical creatures
 
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Name: Draynor Wynmaris

Age: 95

Race: Dark Elf

Sex/Gender: Male


Appearance: Outlandishly tall at 6 feet 5, Draynor wears a deep red overcoat made of fine linen and decorated with leather patterns. He keeps his silver hair relatively short, but always long enough to tie them back if need be. His skin is a dark charcoal, with piercing blue eyes that are as light as a clear morning sky. He also carries a rapier which is hidden in a cane-looking scabbard. The pommel looks like a ruby while the guard is nearly non-existant, but that doesn't seem to deter the pirate. Years of fighting and working a ship has honed Draynor's body to be lean and muscular.

Role: Fancy pirate, Captain of the Burnt Hands, of the ship Wretched Siren

Biography: Some people are born to accomplish grand things in life; others are born to serve those same ones with a grand destiny. Draynor was born for greatness. His parents lived a relatively low life, but he remembers a time where they lived inside the castle walls of the capital, both working in the royal libraries as part of a maintenance crew. Draynor played with the little lords and ladies from a very young age, fighting with wooden swords and getting saved by the play-queens. An unfortunate incident caused the Wynmaris family to be cast out, but his parents never spoke of it. To the small boy, there was no logic to it - but he never got any answers to his questions.

Forced to leave the capital as no one would hire a disgraced family, the Wynmaris moved to a small town along the Krowehk Mountains. While Farenthaes was crawling with elves of all kinds, the outer regions were mainly populated by humans with a history of slavery, many of which loved to remind their ancestral captors of the ghost chains. Draynor's mother could not stand the haunting of their past lives, and the years in the rural town wore her down until the pressure of a noose around her neck became all too real. Continuously blaming himself for their demise, the old man trotted down the road of madness, leaving Draynor alone.

Determined to break free of the mysterious guilt that was weighing him down, the young elf disappeared overnight in a travelling caravan headed straight to the coasts of the kingdom. He had never seen the ocean or felt the salty breeze on his skin, and so the thrill of discovering something new for himself was enough to sustain his spirits the entire way. It was nearly a year of travelling with the caravan, learning the way of life of nomad merchants as well as intimate details about Farenthaes and its people better than any book could have ever taught him. He was nearly thirty already but Draynor had better and greater ideas than settling down with a wife: sailing.

At first he was rather terrible at it. His hands were still soft from a comfortable lifestyle, and his arms had never lifted anything truly heavy. The first few years aboard a merchant ship that sailed from the royal ports of Farenthaes to those of Islamyria were filled with muscle pains, sunburns, and more blisters than he could remember. But for the first time in his life, Draynor felt free and most of all, liberated of the dark handprint of his mysterious childhood. No one knew who the Wynmaris were aboard the ship, the crew only knew the names of the rich merchant and noble families, the guilds that filled their pockets. At the tender age of fifty, Draynor embarked on his greatest journey yet: sailing across the Blytin ocean to uncivilized territories. Even the most detailed books from the royal library did not have thorough maps of the land across Blytin. The voyage itself was many years, and the port that greeted them was populated by small people much alike gnomes.

Draynor's prosperous trips came to a drastic end when the merchant ship was pillaged by sea pirates. Left on foreign soils with people who barely spoke the common language, the dark elf decided to take the reins of his destiny and to no longer be a servant of the fattest gold pouches. He hid in a ship that was rumoured to travel to some foul place called Oshanlenor, where the ruthless pirates of Blytin often found refuge and traded stolen goods and where a self-proclaimed king ruled unchallenged. During his years on merchant ships Draynor had heard of the mythical place and his need for adventure was instantly sparked. While it was all very shrouded in mystery, the name was oddly familiar and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was supposed to go there.

He looked nothing like a pirate except for his calloused hands and the permanent darker tone of his charcoal skin. He shed his fancier clothes except for the deep red coat that would later become his icon item. While most pirates came and went through Mirgho's Harbor, Draynor lived there for nearly a decade, making connections with some of the best smugglers and learning all about the little drama that shook some of the crews, but especially everything he could find about King Kraymer. It wasn't long until he made his move and recruited his very own crew, handpicked over the years for the special skills or simply because he enjoyed their company more than others. A captain always needs a ship, and so he won the one that had caught his eye in the latest years: the Wretched Siren. It had been constructed with a wood so dark it was almost black, and even with the years it spent through the waves the colour did not fade. The head piece was the face of a woman with pointy ears and a generous uncovered bust. The tail was the masterpiece though; intricately detailed scales carved into the wood, with Zainth's holy symbol of a wave carved between them. Draynor instantly recognized the Islamyrian craftsmanship, and perhaps it was why he rigged the match he had to play in order to win the Wretched Siren.

A new life began for Captain Draynor and his crew. Amongst them were Elanso Zagi, Foklath Estrai, Belanor Royarus, and a few others who'd either take refuge on his ship or who'd been hired for their skills. Draynor had grand dreams and soon they were sailing into unknown corners of the world. The dark elf's last voyage did not go according to plan, but they retrieved the item they had been searching for. He does not like to speak about this last expedition, and his crewmates are none the wiser as it appears they have no memory of what exactly happened.


Hexcode: #B23

Art Source
 
1f71879201f902ebc3f69e2cd1a5e4f6.png

  • Name: Sagus Faust
    Race: Tiefling
    Sex/Gender: Male
    Age: 37
    Role: Surgeon
    Origin: Islamyria

    Appearance: Standing at 6'8" with wide shoulder and bulky build complimented by a dark crimson scheme, Sagus Faust commands an imposing presence of cultured ferocity.

    His immaculate all-red attire and impeccable manner greatly contrast with the belligerent savagery of his ancestry, long black horns and flowing curls falling over hooked ears. His skin, dark and weathered, although well-cared for betrayed a violent past of extensive scars bearing the marks of ragged wounds that had been flawlessly stitched.

    His eyes, a startling scarlet of dusk over snowy peaks, carries a keen intelligence and nearly indecipherable appraisal that projects contemplative intensity.

    Faust radiates an aura of pride, not arrogance but the absolute confidence of a man possessing an unshakable faith in everything he is and challenging the world to break him down.

    Strength:
    • Perfect close-ranged vision: Within a 10 feet radius, Faust's scarlet sight can pick out the individual lines on a fly's wing, or track individual droplets of water in the rain.
    • The Surgeon's Hands: Steady as the earth itself, Faust's grip never shakes, never falters, never hesitates. His fingers can tease out a tiny knot on a needle thread, or pick up a single grain of powder. His grip, while firm and precise, is powerful enough to set broken bones with one hand.
    • The Third Hand: Years of training granted Faust the perfect control of his tail as if it was another limb, which he regularly uses in both daily tasks and professional practice.
    Weakness:
    • Speed: Faust's strength is that of a focused machine, patient and meticulous. He could work on patients for hours on end, but the fanatic focus on his craft left his lower body reflex in a less than ideal state.
    • Martially Untrained: Almost entirely useless with complex weapons, Faust often tries to avoid violence using his head more than his blade.
    • Crooked Left Foot: An old injury that never fully healed, Faust walks with a slight limp favouring his left, further damaging his agility and balance. He often utilizes a cane, though he can do without one albeit making daily tasks more difficult.

    Hex Colour: #E00

  • There once was a little Tiefling boy.

    The boy lived a life that was less than a life, in a home that was less than a home, for father had buried his love with mother and left none for him.

    One day the boy asked his father why he was not loved, and his father said, because I hate, as you will one day. That was the first and only lesson the bitter old man ever taught him.

    The little boy understood hate of course, but didn't know it, not truly. His hate, then, must not have been strong enough. So he fed it everything he had, passion, fear, longing. Love. Until all he knew was a seething hatred so violent and suffocating he thought he would drown in it.

    The little boy's father died taking his vengence, one he never passed down. The cycle ended before it could even begin.

    ----​

    There once was a boy with poison pumping through his veins, devouring everything he was.

    A priest of Zainth took him in, an act of kindness so puzzling that for a moment the hatred subsided and curiosity leeched through the cracks. So the boy asked the priest why he had done what he did, and the priest answered, because I have faith.

    The boy understood faith too, but once again did not truly know it. He searched for it in himself and found none, as faith was the domain of the Gods, and they demanded a sacrifice. So the boy offered Zainth his all-consuming hatred, and was granted faithful peace and guidance. After all, Gods had use for someone with no purpose like himself.

    The priest was murdered in a burglary and his temple burned to the ground.

    ----
    There once was a boy who had given everything and achieved nothing.

    The boy at last learned vengeace, yet he loathed how easily the long thought abandoned hatred came back to him, how righteous it felt to unleash violence for a justified cause. But Fate once again swayed him from darkness, for the first man he encounered down that road was a kind man.

    The old surgeon told him, before you can cut open a man, you must know how to a stitch him up first, for a killer who doesn't know restraint and circumspection is a killer doomed to die.

    So for short while, the boy thought, he could exchange a knife for a needle, and aggression for absolute focus. The short while turned into months, and months into years. The little boy grew into a young man.

    He was good at it, the young surgeon, good at fixing mistakes and mending the brokens. Each pass of the needle stitched close a small piece of his past, each broken bone set righted a disastrous choice of his life. Slowly, fragment by fragment, the young surgeon sewed himself back to one piece.

    His mentor passed away peacefully of old age.

    ----
    There once was a man who spent his life with one foot hanging over the abyss.

    This time, there was no one to save him, no kindness to suture buried lost. He was all alone.

    The little boy would have faltered and fled. The young man would have embraced the seed of cruelty and become a monster with a clever mask.

    Faust was neither. Each time his life turned, he had fed everything he was into the forge of reincarnation to emerge a distorted image of his new dream, over and over again until no semblance of the things he had been before remained, leaving only the absolute pride of a creature who was melted down to the diamond of its core and can no longer be hurt.

    The little boy had burn. The young man had burned. Hatred, faith, anger, love. Only Faust and the pride existed.

    Faust's refusal to treat a notorious noble had his home destroyed and his name dragged through the mud.

    ----
    There once was a creature standing on the shore of a foreign land, starting its journey, one more time.


Character art by IndahAlditha
 
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Sail; Oregano; Biryani;

Rudesind Pyr
x
Basics:

Prefered Name: Rude or Pyr
Race: Tiefling
Sex/Gender: Male
Age: 48 y/o
Role: Pilot

Appearance:
With a permanent scowl on his face Rude has the appearance of an irate and irreproachable character. 5 feet 8 inches tall he is decently sized, but the permanent slouch in his back makes him a slightly shorter than he actually is and appear older to top it all off. In part his appearance does give away his personality, as his temper can be as volatile as his face suggests him to be. Rumours have it that his eyes light up in the dark, or that they flash when sufficiently angered, but that really is only an illusion because of dark composition, right?

Strengths:

+ Maritime knowledge - With his sharp eyes Rude has trained and studied the movements of the waters and learnt to recognise the shallow parts of the seas. With a taste of the air the tiefling is able to tell how far from land they are and with a finger in the water he knows where they float. His years of experience and careful studies having taught him all this precious knowledge that saved his life so many times.

+ Excellent eyesight - Very little escapes Rude's eyes, the way the gulls soar through the sky, the tiniest speck of land or a rock that is threatening the ship. Some say that the man has eyes in the back of his head, as nothing on the ship escapes him even if it happens at his back. For that reason every hook that misses its aim will receive a scowl and a curse from the man. No gunner is safe from his criticism.

+ Internal compass - Rude always had an uncanny talent in finding his path. This talent has been polished and honed by observing the sea so closely as he has done for most of his life. To Rude being lost is a foreign experience as he always know what direction to go; to the sea and beyond. And if not it usually means he is out for blood.

+ Booming voice - One of the most notable traits about Rude is his unmistakably booming voice. No one can ever say that they can't hear the tiefling unless they truly can't hear or are dead, there is no muting this man and nor should the attempt be made to silence him.

Weaknesses:

- Superstitious - Rude's fear to encounter or trigger a curse is so great that set rituals are in place that he must follow to counter bad luck. Before the ship's departure a blessing must have taken place, when salt is spilled it must be thrown over the shoulder and smaller things such as never steal from a corpse. Needless to say, telling ghost stories to Rude is a very bad idea if one doesn't wish to partake in a cleansing ritual.

- Alcoholic - Over the years Rude had learnt how to drink and how to do so heavily. Over the years he has found that drinking takes away the gnawing feeling of guilt he permanently carries. That it takes away the voices in his head that whisper all that could go wrong and how the blessings isn't saving his soul at all. Rude likes his liquor and he likes to have it throughout the day, every day.

- Explosive - It is known on the ship that Rude’s temper is short and as volatile as the heaviest storms the seas have seen. Perpetually stuck in a bad mood Rude only needs so much to flare up and attack with bloodshed in mind.

- Sore joints and a limp - Perhaps it is the age and harsh labour catching up onto Rude, however his body isn't as nimble and able as it has been since his youth. Though he isn't particularly old Rude does feel weary in ways and realises that he simply doesn't possess the same strengths anymore to take the risks he is used in taking. Though unwilling to admit that he is growing old he does know that he should take it easier else injury will happen.

Biography:

The story starts four decades ago. Rudesind Pyr was only eight years old when he ran away from home. The reason of why has been long forgotten and Rudesind supposed it was about something silly. After all, thinking back home wasn't so bad. He had never known his father, but his mother was as loving as she could be in the circumstances they lived. Rudesind just remembered how she could never be alone, bringing man after man to her house to keep her bed warm. Thinking back Rudesind supposed that he should have taken it on himself to protect her, but he never did. Not back then and not in all the while that he grew stronger. Home was simply not that place anymore.

However, that isn't the story of Rudesind, or Rude as he prefers --demands-- to go by. Eight years old he was, running away from home and somehow finding himself in the harbour where he climbed onto a ship and was found when they were well onto the journey. The initial idea was to throw him overboard, but as Rude was a healthy strong boy and hands were needed the blessing was given to take him in as a cabin boy. This is where Rude's career started on the sea, but not as a pirate.

Quickly showing promise for the seaman's life Rude travelled the world and was taught the ropes. Soon he climbed up in the ranks, the older he got the more they appreciated his experience. Before he knew it he was a man and steering the wheel belting out what direction they were to go. Rude was right at home on the ship and on the sea.

It was one fateful day that changed his life, however. As it often happens in such memoirs lives are upturned in a single hour and so was Rude's. One forgotten blessing and the ship was filled to the brim with foreigners raiding their loot and taking the crew. Those who were spared were given an option, join their league or jump into their grave. Rude's option was obvious. Young as he was and a mind full of adventure he followed along, assuming his role as the pilot. It was never about the money for the tiefling, it was the sea he wanted and he would follow as long as the ship wasn't sinking.
Misc:
Hexcolour: #B11
Art by: TheMinttu from DeviantArt
 
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