Fantasy TT&WW Characters

[Meme Machine]

[div class=topimg][/div][div class=fyuricontain][div class=wanted]Wanted[/div][div class=doa]Dead or Alive[/div]

[div class=imgc][div class=img]

[/div][/div]

[div class=name]Pandora Thorston

[/div]
[div class=reason]Wanted for Man slaughter, Murder, Thievery, Assumed witchcraft, Lying to government officials, Piracy [/div]
[div class=basics]Age: 25

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Pansexual

Race: Human

Country of Origin: Driele

Crew Position: Crew Mate

Skills: Thievery, some acrobatics, a charm that come with looks, sewing skills, has this ‘thing’ with sharks

PersonalWeaknesses: Claustrophobia, hates rats, tends to get irrational and angry when lower level people are insulted or treated bad

Inventory:
• Dagger
• Smoke bombs
• Whatever she’s stolen at the time
• A small pouch of money
• A brass bracelet that looks old
[/div]

[div class=lmh]Physical Abilities[/div]

Ability One​

Climbing and swinging around. Living on the streets, you get flexibility and street smarts.​

Ability One Limitations​

The way she portrays herself, with an obvious talent for hiding, makes her a suspicious figure for guardsmen.​

​

Ability Two​

Uses throwing daggers more than she uses guns. This gives her a very good aim.​

Ability Two Limitations​

Having never used a gun before, she sometimes finds it hard to actually hit someone before they hit her first.​

​

Ability Three​

Is small in size and figure, which makes it easier to fit into smaller places.​

Ability Three Limitations​

Being so small can come at a cost, and she can’t handle as many physical blows as most of the crew. Plus, she looks younger than she is.​

​

Ability Four​

Charisma is a talent Pandora has mastered, getting free food as a kid and distraction from others while she slips past and grabs a money.​

Ability Four Limitations​

Sometimes when someone offends poorer people, even in the slightest, that’s charisma is gone and she immediately hates you.​

​

Ability Five​

Being a very heavy weight drinker comes in handy, especially when your trying to get info out of someone.​

Ability Five Limitations​

She hates the taste, and when she gets drunk, the headache afterwards is HORRIBLE.​

​

[div class=lmh]Magical Abilities[/div]

Ability One​

Pandora has an odd thing with animals, sharks in particular. She somehow is able to get them to trust her, unless she hurts them.​

Ability One Limitations​

Animals are still animals, and she can’t talk with them.​

​

[div class=txt][div class=lmh]Backstory[/div]
Born in an old and rundown building in one of the poorest parts of her country gave Pandora a unique perspective on life. Born to a weak mother and an alcoholic father, Pandora learned how to steal money early on, mostly using it for medicine for her mother. Her father would become angry whenever he learned she stole money. Not the fact that she stole, but that she didn’t get any mead for him. He would hurt her, and her mother. One day, her mother died, pushing Pandora into a state of desperation. Her father couldn’t care less for the girl, and sold her as a slave to one of the higher ups. During the sale, when the higher up got a little too handsy, Pandora panicked. Only eleven, she took her father’s dagger, and stabbed the man in the heart.

Her father called the guards, and Pandora escaped, running for miles until she was in an even worse part of town. It was then that she found her own place to live, and her own line of work. Once she found she was convicted of murder, she tried to lay low, a scared kid trying to avoid being caught by the law.

At 16, she came back out, sneaking into crowds and snatching purses left and right. She used what little money she had stolen to get passage to a nicer part of her world, the city of Fyer. Finally safe (as she could be) Pandora stole mainly from the rich, buying medicine, food, and clothes for herself and other poor kids in the area. Now 25, Pandora had had several close run ins with the law. Too close. So, she tried to find passage to a safer part of the world, or even better; a sailing crew who doesn’t know who she is. Having to move close to Booty Bay, Pandora is on the run and on the search for a home.
[div class=crest][/div]
[div class=bounty]A bounty will be paid upon the capture and surrender of the aforesaid person to His Majesty's Government.[/div]

[/div][/div][div class=bottomimg][/div]

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[BreeDav]

[div class=topimg][/div][div class=fyuricontain][div class=wanted]Wanted[/div][div class=doa]Dead or Alive[/div]

[div class=imgc][div class=img]

[/div][/div]

[div class=name]Sanders Shaw

[/div]
[div class=reason]Wanted for unlawful desertion, treason, illegal espionage and trade of state secrets[/div]
[div class=basics]Age: 28

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Race: Changeling Fey

Country of Origin: Maerin

Crew Position: cartographer / crew

Skills: hiding in plain sight, creating maps, a natural sense of position and direction

Personal Weaknesses: always paranoid, mistrusting of magic, quick to change allegiance

Inventory: leather satchel, thick cloak, long scarf, two stiletto knives, several loose maps, map making supplies (quills, colored inks, and rolls of parchment), an old and slightly bent Maerin military badge, and a “master book” of every map he’s ever drawn
[/div]

[div class=lmh]Physical Abilities[/div]

Proficiency with Daggers​

two handed combat with short blades​

Close Quarters​

Unable to do anything when more than pray when more than an arms reach away from a hostile enemy​

​

Lip Reading​

No need for small talk when the darkest corner of the a tavern allows for quicker access to everyone’s plans and secrets. Never has there been a more literal meaning to loose lips sink ships.​

Language and Visibility​

While this skill may give Sanders access to many secrets, he will only be able to understand those spoken in a position he can see and in his language.​

​

Cartography​

The ability to create an accurate map during or after visiting a new area.​

Understanding of Land​

In order for a map to be confidently accurate, he must have been there himself. He refused to make a map off someone else’s word or story, insisting that the quality would be an embarrassment to his reputation.​

​

Stealth​

In darkness, in crowds, in cluttered ports, Sanders can find a way disappear to evade capture.​

Envirnmental Requirements​

While he may have been accused of witchcraft by many a confused opponent, his stealth has no base in magic. Because of this, he needs instruments with which to carry it out. It can be darkness, feature obscuring clothing, or a busy street, but he can’t vanish into thin air.​

​

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[div class=lmh]Magical Abilities[/div]

“Finding”​

The ability to magically sense the location of an item, place, or person while touching a map and holding the image in his mind​

Magical Requirements​

Depending on the size, importance, and power of the thing he is looking for, this can take days of meditation and focus to find. More often, it will take a few minutes to an hour or two. n order to have a successful finding session, Sanders must have at least interacted with the person, place, or thing at once in to be able to use this skill. If he has never touched an item, never been to a specific place, or never met and interacted with a person being searched for he will be unable to locate it using this method. Additionally he must be touching a map he has not made himself. Trails may go cold or be covered by magic, thwarting his ability to find them magically.​

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Illusion​

With an innate ability to bend light and color, Sanders is able to create an image in his surrounding area.​

Magic Requirements​

In order for the illusion to work, it can be no larger than a human. it cannot be touched or interacted with in any way except visually. In order for it to work, sanders must watch it without looking away.​

​

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[div class=txt][div class=lmh]Backstory[/div]
28 years ago, a human baby was taken from a new family. In its place, a fey child was left. Though the parents noticed a few differences in the child the morning after the switch (change in temperament, a lightening of eye color, and slight change in the shape of the ears), the baby’s bright smile and bubbling giggle so quickly enchanted the parents, that they had never explored their suspicions further. The parents had named their child Sanders, for one of the father’s fallen comrades from his years serving Maerin.

As Sanders grew, people took notice of him. They went out of their way to greet him and forgive any of his shortcomings. He was an old soul, of another world. Or so his parent’s friends would tell him. In comparison to the plain humans that populated his northern town, he was incredibly magnetic. Teachers and friends would often not that though he was do striking in his personality, he seemed to miss a quality of emotional depth and empathy that most humans had naturally. It was never a concern, simply a point of interest. He never cried, he never pursued love, never played with unbridled happiness alongside the other children.

18 years after the night he was given to the human family, he learned what he was. Something deep within him called him out into the marsh that was west of his small town. Hour after hour he pulled himself through the mud, grass, and sunken earth toward whatever was calling to him. In the shade of a weeping willow, a boy waited for him. The boy had the same coloring as he did, same manner as he did, and same expression. They stood in the shade, examining each other. Sanders had always been a bit shorter and thinner than the other men his age. This boy was tall and wide, stronger in appearance than Sanders could ever be. The boy opened his mouth slowly and said simply “We’ve been living each other’s lives.”

The boy who’s face he shared explained to Sanders what had happened 18 years earlier. They were two men, tangled into each other’s stories but never meant to meet. This boy, Sanders decided, was his brother. By blood, by intension, by situation. Every way that mattered, they were family.

The two spoke secretly all day in the marsh about the lives that had been stolen, what was, and what could have been.

The day after, Sanders was called to his military duty.
Three months were served as cannon fodder, two years were spent in officer training. Express ever being made an active duty officer, he was tapped for espionage. Two more years of training. 9 months service.
After his five years of required service, he signed on for seven more. For four years he was a good citizen and an even better spy. But everyone has their breaking points. After nine years, he ran, offering his cartography to the first ships captain he found who didn’t start looking for a guard the moment he mentioned needing to escape the country.

Captain Arnold ‘Glint’ Richton was a gruff man He was always drunk and angry, but he was one of the best seaman Sanders has ever met. The moment he heard Sanders was on the run, his eyes gleamed. He quoted a pretty penny for a ticket on deck.

Sanders insisted that he wouldn’t be paying with money, he would be paying with intelligence. The old pirate stood and turned, seconds away from laughing himself out of the bar the two had been talking at before Sanders started rattling off his talents, the places he’d been, the maps he could offer.

Captain Glint Richton welcomed the man on board with open arms. For the months they were together, Sanders drew them a map so large, he had to roll it all the way down the mess hall’s biggest table to show the crew the whole thing.

The moment he heard a hint that the ship may be turning back towards Maerin, he disappeared into the crowds at the next port.

Since that journey, he has hitchhiked his way across the seas on dozens of ships. He’s survived attacks, take overs, raids, and capture attempts.

When asked how, he proudly explains;

“My beautiful homeland gave me all the skills I needed to get out of dangerous situations. Thank god they did. I may have died for them otherwise.”
[div class=crest][/div]
[div class=bounty]A bounty will be paid upon the capture and surrender of the aforesaid person to His Majesty's Government.[/div]

[/div][/div][div class=bottomimg][/div]

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[Dalamus Ulom]

[div class=topimg][/div][div class=fyuricontain][div class=wanted]Wanted[/div][div class=doa]Dead or Alive[/div]

[div class=imgc][div class=img]

[/div][/div]

[div class=name]PLACIDE "LEVERT" LEVESQUE

[/div]
[div class=reason]Wanted for Heresy, Idolatry, False Proselytization, Murder, Cythra-Worship, and Theft of Artifacts[/div]
[div class=basics]Age: 52

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual

Race: Human

Country of Origin: Theace

Crew Position: Crewmember

Skills: Monster study, Summoning, Mysticism, Archaeology, Artifact Appraisal, Languages.

Personal Weaknesses: Weak of body and unskilled in the ways of proper combat, Levert is a zealot of a faith that is seemingly of his own creation, which states that he must help bring about the end of the world before the gods shall deign return to remake it, better and greater than it ever was before, and with it all peoples shall live again, made perfect by the infinite power of the gods. Of course, it all sounds completely insane to any sane person, and like the purest form of heresy for the pious.

Inventory:
- Grimoire of Ghyslain
- Amulet of Ghyslain
- Simple knife
- Several scrolls and books of varying value and states of waterlog
- The clothes on his back
[/div]

[div class=lmh]Physical Abilities[/div]

Stick 'em With the Pointy End!​

Levert knows you hold a knife by the hilt, and that the pointy end goes in the person. He can also throw a mean right hook.​

*Laughs in Sheltered Priest*​

Levert is practically incompetent when it comes to physical combat, due in large part to his spending the majority of his life cloistered away in the church. Can still throw a mean right hook, it's just that a right hook will only get you so far in a real fight.​

​

Smooth Talker​

Having been trained and acted been a priest for over half his life, Levert is skilled in speaking to others, often using a rudimentary knowledge of psychology to convince the people around him.​

Almost Had 'Em​

Despite wielding abominable, eldritch powers that allow him to summon horrifying monsters not of this world, SOMEHOW Levert is still clueless to the fact that attempting to barefacedly indoctrinate someone into the fantasy pirate equivalent of a doomsday cult using bold and clear cut wording that proudly states you plan on killing everyone tends to put people off, at the very least.​

​

Curse of Ghyslain​

Due to having the artifacts of Ghyslain, Levert has obtained a supernatural youth and vitality, along with a greatly increased mana pool compared to his (actually non-existing) original manapool. The obvious sign of this are his startlingly green eyes, which were once a cool hazel.​

Cursed Items are Cursed. Obviously.​

Due to the evil nature of the tome, while it has slowed his aging, it has not fully stopped it, as evidenced by this graying hair. Besides this, it would seem that some of the artifact's original owner's personality is beginning to altar Levert's mind, causing him to adorn himself in green clothes and is possibly the reason for the major color shift of his eyes.​

​

[div class=lmh]Magical Abilities[/div]

Monster Summoning​

Wielding the power of the ancient daemonologist Ghyslain The Green, Levert is able to summon to him various abominations of flesh and steel often referred as "Monsters" by the people of the world. Will follow Levert's commanders to the letter, even if it means the destruction of their bodies. Unless it's intelligent.​

Strange Conditions​

What will specifically be summoned is largely indeterminable, seeming to rely on the users affinity for the djinn, their personal ability with magic, and other seemingly incomprehensible reasons. Outside of the choice of general size, the user is largely left in the dark.​

Mana Cost and the Inherent Danger of the Cythraul​

With daemonology, the complexity of the summon and the possible danger posed to the caster increases exponentially with the strength and intelligence of the monster that one is attempting to summon. So, for example, summoning a creature the size of a cat takes but a flick of the wrist to summon and little power to fully control, but gives little in the way of power in return. On the opposite end, to summon something of great power or size would require a massively complex ritual that would kill a single caster, requiring multiple mages to aid in the summoning.​

​

Unholy Whispers and Pacts​

Wielding the artifacts of Ghyslain, Levert is able to commune with the more intelligent horrors, allowing him to collect secrets and obtain general advice from the ancient entities. In addition, using a protective ward written in blood and an offering, Levert is able to summon a projection of a powerful being and force it to speak nothing but the truth in order to make a proper deal with it.​

Lies and Betrayal​

The horrors are some of the most deceitful and manipulative beings in the world, and will often lie to obtain things they desire from those who commune with them. If one were to make a deal or pact with a beings, they would doubtlessly try and find the biggest and most useful loopholes for them within moments. While within a ward of protection, the entities are compelled to speak truthfully, that does not mean they can't simply leave facts and information out of anything they say.​

​

Ritual of Binding​

Using blood to create a seal of binding as detailed in the grimoire, Levert is able to bind a specific summoned entity or minor entity to him until the destruction of the seal or the creature itself.​

Limits​

As always, mana is a limited resource, and having a minion be bound to this world means that it must be sustained by Levert's mana pool, causing a permanent loss in total mana until the minion is dispelled.​

​

[div class=txt][div class=lmh]Backstory[/div]
Placide had always been destined to be a priest, or so his mother used to claim to him before she died of Phthisis. She used to say that the most beautiful and pearlescent angel the world had ever known visited her on the eve of his oh so auspicious birth. All his life, he was raised with the words of the Prophet in his heart and the sermons of the deacons in his ears, until he himself joined their ranks, rising and rising, until he somehow found himself among the upper echelons of church society. But none of it sparked anything within him, as he went through the motions, That is, until he saw them. The tome and the amulet. it was only for a second, as he oversaw the renovations within a lower vault of the Church of the Prophet, and yet, it was there. It had caught hold of him, as if some great beast had reached it's claws out and gripped his very soul.

After that, he would steal into the vault whenever he could, during all hours of the day and night, pouring over the tome as if he were possessed. Until finally he realized he could hear him. The voice told him of what was required of him, spoke of his ultimate mission, and finally it all made sense. Action is holier than inaction. One must be willing to act to be blessed. Which means one must be willing to bring an end to the world so that the gods will remake it as thy should. With this revelation, this epiphany, Placide knew what to do. He began to proselytize to the people of Cathe, holding the artifacts that he had stolen out of the vault, and proclaiming to all what they must do. They rejected his ideas, called him a heretic and a madman, and called for the guards to take him. As they approached, Placide's instincts kicked in, and without thinking, he opened a hole in the air itself from which emerged a monstrous creature of sinew and steel, cover from head to toe in razor sharp points and deadly edges. That is, until it burrowed itself into the throat of the nearest guardsman as fast as lightning. With the chaos bought the daemon, Placide fled the scene, hiding himself within a crate that was soon taken aboard a nearby ship, before finally leaving the city he hadn't been outside of since his early childhood.

And he felt free.
[div class=crest][/div]
[div class=bounty]A bounty will be paid upon the capture and surrender of the aforesaid person to His Majesty's Government.[/div]

[/div][/div][div class=bottomimg][/div]

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[class=fyuricontain] max-width:1053px; min-height:600px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/ROvSFjm.jpg'); overflow:hidden; color:#000; [/class] [class=imagecontainer] max-width: 1053px; height: 580px; margin: auto!important; background-size:cover; line-height: 0px; [/class] [class=mainimage] position:relative; z-index:2; height: 100%; width: 100%; pointer-events: none; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/tca5ura.png) no-repeat center center; background-size:cover; background-position:left; [/class] [class=header] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; color:rgba(0,0,0, 1.0); font-size:50px; line-height:40px; text-align:center; [/class] [class=txtcontain] position:relative; z-index:1; [/class] [class=txt] padding:25px 30px 0px 30px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; [/class] [class=lmh] display:inline; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; [/class] [class=smh] display:inline; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; [/class] [class=bottomimg] max-width:1053px; min-height:174px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/z8BZsi3.png') no-repeat; [/class] [class=topimg] max-width:1053px; min-height:174px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/C2YTdWE.png') no-repeat; [/class] [class=imgc] display: flex; justify-content: center; align-items: center; [/class] [class=img] display: inline-block; padding: 10px; -webkit-filter: sepia(50%); filter: sepia(50%); text-align:center; pointer-events:none; border-left:1px solid #000; border-right:1px solid #000; [/class] [class=wanted] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:50px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:10px; [/class] [class=doa] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:20px; [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; padding-left:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; border-bottom:1px solid #000; [/class] [class=reason] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; [/class] [class=basics] padding:25px 30px 0px 30px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; -webkit-columns: 300px 2; -moz-columns: 300px 2; columns: 300px 2; [/class] [class=crest] float:right; width:131px; height:150px; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/EQ1xqc7.png) no-repeat; background-size: 131px 150px; [/class] [class=bounty] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; [/class]

 

[Probably George]

[div class=topimg][/div][div class=fyuricontain][div class=wanted]Wanted[/div][div class=doa]Dead or Alive[/div]

[div class=imgc][div class=img]

[/div][/div]

[div class=name]Dilano, The Bramble Blazed

[/div]
[div class=reason]Wanted for ARSONY, PETTY THEFT, FIRST DEGREE MURDER, SECOND DEGREE MURDER AND CONSPIRACY[/div]
[div class=basics]Age: 24

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Race: Human

Country of Origin: Ethium

Crew Position: Chef

Skills: Human anatomy, home cooking, impoverished cooking, Espionage, Theft, and Assassination.

Personal Weaknesses: Addicted to the drug "Bramble", easily irritated, partially crippled: Damaged knee, and overly prideful of his work

Inventory: Cooking knife, Fillet knife, Pouch of Bramble, Bramble pipe, Small bottle of Lead
[/div]

[div class=lmh]Physical Abilities[/div]

Espionage
Dilano is the near perfect stealthy criminal. If you give him a place to break into, he'll be in and out before sunrise, and without being seen.
Cheap Tactics
While Dilano is good at being a rogue, when it comes to a head on fight, Dilano isn't suited for a proper fight.

Planning phase
Casing a joint is easy. Inspect the outside, maybe the inside if possible, and looking for building plans. Once Dilano know's the ins and out of a building, it's all a matter of watching out for guards.
Oh~ shiny!
Dilano is inherently greedy. If he sees something he wants, he'll go for it before finishing the job, what ever it takes. Wouldn't be the first time he's taken out a guard just for their nice ring.

​

[div class=lmh]Magical Abilities[/div]

Blazed
Dilano can build up his body heat and expel it as fire. This is mainly used to cook, melt lead for poisoning, and lighting his bramble, with the occasional arson.
Hot hot!
Holding in his heat for too long will cause him to get sick. Since he needs to build up body heat for his fire, being in a cold climate prevents him from using his fire.

Mobile Heater
In the cold, Dilano can heat himself up to prevent frostbite.
Calorie burning
Building up body heat takes up a lot of calories, meaning in the cold, Dilano needs twice the calories of a normal man.

​

[div class=txt][div class=lmh]Backstory[/div]
Dilano grew up in a foster home, being the bastard child of an imprisoned woman and a prison guard. As soon as he was born, his mother begged the guard to take him away. If word got out about the two of them, their heads would be on the chopping block for adultery. The guard took the baby boy to a foster home and forgot about him. Unfortunately, his mother was executed when he was just 6 years old.

Life in the orphanage was rough. Ever since he could remember, the world was a dog-eat-dog world. Day after day, Dilano survived on scraps. Eventually he found that stealing from the nearby butchery was providing the best yield. This was until he was caught by the owner. When confronted, he was given two options: a word with the police, or to work off his debt. Of course, he chose the latter.

Eventually, Dilano got to enjoy the work and got to know his boss's name, Letto. It gave him something to do, as well as being fed (since Letto didn't have the money to pay him.) For years, Dilano helped out around the store and didn't have a day where he went hungry. Along with the sustain, Dilano made friends with Letto. More like a father, or at least more of one than the man who plugged his mom. Letto taught Dilano how to be a man; Take the hit, take care of your loved ones, and work for your money. There was even the occasional "Ay, pa-" slip up. While it was embarrassing for Dilano, Letto enjoyed it. They were the father and son that neither had.

There was always something that Letto hid from Dilano. Strange people coming in and meeting with Letto in the back room. One day, Dilano decided to do a little snooping, and was shocked by what he heard. Letto worked under ground, with a large gang upheld in Aetherport. Something about wacking someone? Dilano didn't get a lot of time to dwell on it before Letto caught his spying. After Letto saw the man off, he had a talk with Dilano, explaining the whole situation. Essentially, Letto took care of bodies brought in by the gangs and on the rare occasion, took someone out himself. But most importantly, this was to not be spoken about to anyone.

Years had gone by; different faces coming in and out, rarely going into the back with Letto. There was even the occasional bloody sack with what he assumed to be holding a body. One day, while Letto was talking business in the back, he called for Dilano to come in the meeting. He let down the case that Dilano would have to be part of the back-end business if he was to stay with Letto. Essentially, Dilano would joining the criminal underground, the gang. It took a while for Dilano to make his choice, but in the end, he realized that Letto was all he had.

By the age of 21, Dilano had already taken a few jobs that included assassination and espionage. At this point, he was officially part of the criminal underground. There was no turning back now. He still worked at butchery though. Just as it seemed like everything was going perfect for the two, the police caught up to the gang and cracked down on Letto's butchery. During the raid, Letto and Dilano happened to be in the back. Letto realized that this was the end. He told Dilano something that he'd never forget.

"Remember the latch to the sewers? Take it. They probably don't know about you, but I guarantee they're at least here for me. Now get out ah' here kid. I'll find you when things go quiet."​

That was the last time he saw Letto. Those words were permanently etched into his mind. Nowhere to run, not even the gang could help him out. So there he was, out on the streets, stealing for food and money. The group of petty thieves he stayed with eventually got him hooked on bramble, a plant that numbs the body and mind when smoked. One of them even taught him a bit of fire magic as a way to pass the time. Also to help light the bramble. After years of being on the street, Dilano finally had enough and decided to go make a name for himself. To his disappointment, he was turned down by every butchery, bar, and restaurant he applied for. For Dilano there was last option, piracy.

To his surprise, one group actually welcomed him aboard. Gone was Dilano the thief. Now he was Dilano, sous chef of the Whimsical Lady.
[div class=crest][/div]
[div class=bounty]A bounty will be paid upon the capture and surrender of the aforesaid person to His Majesty's Government.[/div]

[/div][/div][div class=bottomimg][/div]

.

[class=fyuricontain] max-width:1053px; min-height:600px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/ROvSFjm.jpg'); overflow:hidden; color:#000; [/class] [class=imagecontainer] max-width: 1053px; height: 580px; margin: auto!important; background-size:cover; line-height: 0px; [/class] [class=mainimage] position:relative; z-index:2; height: 100%; width: 100%; pointer-events: none; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/tca5ura.png) no-repeat center center; background-size:cover; background-position:left; [/class] [class=header] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; color:rgba(0,0,0, 1.0); font-size:50px; line-height:40px; text-align:center; [/class] [class=txtcontain] position:relative; z-index:1; [/class] [class=txt] padding:25px 30px 0px 30px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; [/class] [class=lmh] display:inline; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; [/class] [class=smh] display:inline; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; [/class] [class=bottomimg] max-width:1053px; min-height:174px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/z8BZsi3.png') no-repeat; [/class] [class=topimg] max-width:1053px; min-height:174px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/C2YTdWE.png') no-repeat; [/class] [class=imgc] display: flex; justify-content: center; align-items: center; [/class] [class=img] display: inline-block; padding: 10px; -webkit-filter: sepia(50%); filter: sepia(50%); text-align:center; pointer-events:none; border-left:1px solid #000; border-right:1px solid #000; [/class] [class=wanted] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:50px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:10px; [/class] [class=doa] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:20px; [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; padding-left:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; border-bottom:1px solid #000; [/class] [class=reason] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; [/class] [class=basics] padding:25px 30px 0px 30px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; -webkit-columns: 300px 2; -moz-columns: 300px 2; columns: 300px 2; [/class] [class=crest] float:right; width:131px; height:150px; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/EQ1xqc7.png) no-repeat; background-size: 131px 150px; [/class] [class=bounty] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; [/class]

 

[Reytian]

[div class=topimg][/div][div class=fyuricontain][div class=wanted]Wanted[/div][div class=doa]Dead or Alive[/div]

[div class=imgc][div class=img]

[/div][/div]

[div class=name]Gatzby the Mockingbird

[/div]
[div class=reason]Wanted for Fraud, Robbery, Pit-pocketing, Slave trafficking, Illegal fighting[/div]
[div class=basics]Age: 189, Physically 28

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Race: Human (Cursed)

Country of Origin: Ethium

Crew Position: Crew

Skills: Well educated, the art of combat, acrobatics, stealing, understands a few languages, knows a bit of voodoo, sadly knows the following: system of trafficking slaves, underground illegal fighting places, fraud.

Personal Weaknesses: Gold coins or anything gold for that matter, anything chocolate, a beautiful voice, birds of all kind.

Inventory: Bag of goodies: Chocolate, notebook, ink, quill, voodoo doll that looks strangely like him, twin daggers, necklace with a bird on it that he NEVER leaves behind.
[/div]

[div class=lmh]Physical Abilities[/div]

Acrobatic​

Capable of leaping to great heights along with no stranger to flips, and high beams. Gaztby is capable of supporting his weight quite easily which makes all of his acrobatic skills easier to pull off. His balance is impeccable along with muscle coordination and endurance.​

He doesn't stick the landing!​

Although Gatzby is a fanatic of acrobatics he fails to actually look around him to see if he's able of doing it. Perhaps bumping into people or furniture nocking over items.​

​

Where'd he go?​

Because of how light Gatzby is allows him to move at an incredible speed. This is only in a short distance/room though while mainly utilizing his acrobatics to stay out of sight making it seem that he's extraordinarily fast. He loves to pull off surprise attacks this way. Although unable to actually be insanely fast, Gatzby is still pretty remarkable to a certain distance of about six feet max.​

Oh there he is​

Although he has great agility Gatzby is actually pretty weak conpared to the average Joe. He doesn’t have much strength hence why he utilizes speedy/surprise attacks.​

​

The Curse​

Gatzby was cursed by a witch doctor.​

The witch doctor took away his vocal cords and replaced them with a mockingbirds. Allowing Gatzby to copy ANY type of sound that he hears from a cannon, to a pirate, to maybe even some drunk yelling about seeing a mermaid. What ever the sound is and as long as he hears it clearly he's able to copy it perfectly.​

The second terrible deed the witch doctor did was bound Gatzby to a voodoo doll.​

Curse this Curse!​

Since the witch doctor took his original vocal cords Gatzby can't actually speak. He is limited to what he hears unable to edit it to form sentences. Hence why he brings a notebook, quill, and ink with him to communicate. But even then he gets bothered by it and just portrays what he's saying via facial expressions or sounds he mimicked.​

Since being bound by a doll Gatzby may also be manipulated via voodoo without the doll but this only controls his motor functions instead of Gatzby itself.​

​

[div class=lmh]Magical Abilities[/div]

Who owns the Doll?​

Whosoever gains access to the doll that controls Gatzby shall be able to control him via voice command. No matter how heinous, wicked, dangerous, childlike, or ridiculous it is Gatzby will try to his very best to complete his mission. When told to do something his body moves on it’s own while he’s only capable of watching. Hence why he keeps it close to him all the time. Whoever does hold the doll can actually hear his real voice but he very rarely gives away his doll willingly and does so only to people he trusts.​

Because the Doll is cursed​

It doesn’t matter who holds the doll. Whatever they order Gatzby has to do it. So long as he can hear it. He could end up hurting the people he cares about if it ends in the wrong hands while all he can do is watch.​

​

Mockingbird’s mimic​

Gatzby is able to redirect one offensive physical or magical attack directed at him. This has a cool down after three uses and will need about an hour till he can redirect again.​

Mimic is a gimmick​

Although Gatzby can redirect one offensive attack three times. He must be attacked in order to redirect, he must be able to see it coming, and finally he can't redirect many attacks fired at the same time.​

​

​

​

​

[div class=txt][div class=lmh]Backstory[/div][/div]​

[div class=txt]
Gatzby Mimus Byrd was born into a very wealthy family do to Ethium being the oldest country and him luckily one of the oldest wealthy families that only grew richer each generation. It eventually got to the point that Gatzby never had to work a day in his life. Life was good and having all of the time in the world he pursued his dream of being a professional acrobatic to one day have his own show in Stormshore and take the city by storm.
But one day during a family reunion a witch doctor came nocking on the door. For they were the last of their family who was ruined by Gatzby’s. What Gatzby didn’t know was that his family was made from blood money. Slave trading, killing, stealing, you name it the Byrd’s probably have done it. So in order to pay back the most joyous gift of being the lone surviver of a family the doctor immediately cursed Gatzby after learning of this knowledge.
When he awoke the Byrd estate was ablaze with everything that he owned gone along with his family. The witch doctor then informed of what he had ordered Gatzby to do which was destroying everything his family had built along with killing the rest of his family tree. He was also informed that in order to lift the curse he would have to gain the same amount of money that the Byrd’s had ever spent, which could be hundreds of thousands of dollars, but only with an illegal way to gain the money. The doctor then ordered him to go.

So for many decades Gatzby worked under a crime boss who worked in illegal gambling, robbery, and underground fights. Some how Gatzby was convinced to partake in a fight which he did excellent in, not because he was naturally good, mainly because he was cursed and had an advantage. After that he was sold to a slave trader who really could’ve used Gatzby for slave trading. Unable to to deny without his doll, this forced him to sadly traffic slaves for nearly a decade. He was freed when his master was killed in battle.

Wanting to lift the curse Gatzby began to rob, trick, pick pocket and now considering of joining pirates. He’s still a good person and HATES to do all of this. But when he lifts this curse, he will change his family name into what people mostly call him now. Gatzby Mockingbird, because like a phoenix, he will restart once free. [div class=crest][/div]
[div class=bounty]A bounty will be paid upon the capture and surrender of the aforesaid person to His Majesty's Government.[/div]

[/div][/div][div class=bottomimg][/div]

.

[class=fyuricontain] max-width:1053px; min-height:600px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/ROvSFjm.jpg'); overflow:hidden; color:#000; [/class] [class=imagecontainer] max-width: 1053px; height: 580px; margin: auto!important; background-size:cover; line-height: 0px; [/class] [class=mainimage] position:relative; z-index:2; height: 100%; width: 100%; pointer-events: none; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/tca5ura.png) no-repeat center center; background-size:cover; background-position:left; [/class] [class=header] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; color:rgba(0,0,0, 1.0); font-size:50px; line-height:40px; text-align:center; [/class] [class=txtcontain] position:relative; z-index:1; [/class] [class=txt] padding:25px 30px 0px 30px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; [/class] [class=lmh] display:inline; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; [/class] [class=smh] display:inline; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; [/class] [class=bottomimg] max-width:1053px; min-height:174px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/z8BZsi3.png') no-repeat; [/class] [class=topimg] max-width:1053px; min-height:174px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/C2YTdWE.png') no-repeat; [/class] [class=imgc] display: flex; justify-content: center; align-items: center; [/class] [class=img] display: inline-block; padding: 10px; -webkit-filter: sepia(50%); filter: sepia(50%); text-align:center; pointer-events:none; border-left:1px solid #000; border-right:1px solid #000; [/class] [class=wanted] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:50px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:10px; [/class] [class=doa] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:20px; [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; padding-left:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; border-bottom:1px solid #000; [/class] [class=reason] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; [/class] [class=basics] padding:25px 30px 0px 30px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; -webkit-columns: 300px 2; -moz-columns: 300px 2; columns: 300px 2; [/class] [class=crest] float:right; width:131px; height:150px; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/EQ1xqc7.png) no-repeat; background-size: 131px 150px; [/class] [class=bounty] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; [/class]

 

[Lord Mitmar]

[div class=topimg][/div][div class=fyuricontain][div class=wanted]Wanted[/div][div class=doa]Dead or Alive[/div]

[div class=imgc][div class=img]

[/div][/div]

[div class=name]Tik'i'ta, daughter of the stars

[/div]
[div class=reason]Wanted for continued evasion of lawful servitude, collaboration with heretical and otherwise unlawful groups & theft and assumed destruction of artifacts[/div]
[div class=basics]Age: 22 years. (Human Equivalent: ~58 years.)

Gender: Female

Sexuality: You probably don't want to think about that.

Race: Lagiran - K'rarian Brood

Country of Origin: Driele

Crew Position: Crew / Probably Just a Compass

Skills: Impressively good with even higher mathematical reasoning. Disgustingly strong penchant for cataloguing and swirly calligraphy. A potent astral sorcerer and celestial scholar.

Personal Weaknesses: Worryingly obsessed with her star charts and intellectual work in general, to the point where she will completely disregard anything that conflicts with the pursuit of knowledge. The Brood's Bravery: Tik'i'ta seems entirely unafraid of the world around her, a possible benefit that ends up putting her frail body in the way of danger more often than not. Surprisingly enough, Tik'i'ta is also entirely illiterate, as the K'rarian have no written language and rely entirely on assigned knowledge keepers and the traditional passing of information. On a less mortally dangerous note, she can occasionally become inexplicably drawn to flickering light. Most often, that means lanterns. Why, exactly, this happens, she still can't answer.

Inventory: A small leather satchel stitched to fit only a blank-faced book containing the many stellar charts she's created.
A roughly palm-sized sapphire gemstone smoothed into an oval, attached to a silver necklace, and inscribed with several pearly runes hidden under the voluminous silk robes and silver plating of an experienced astral sorcerer. While such a heavy outfit would normally render Tik'i'ta entirely immobile, not to mention likely crush her to death, these particular items have been enchanted to be almost weightless. This does, unfortunately, negate the protection they once gave, as it has made them partially intangible. However, they are not all for show, as the traditional regalia allows for a clearer communion with the stars, allowing her to grasp power she never could have comprehended alone. The necklace, too, has been enchanted. Bound to her mind, it allows her to 'speak' in the common tongue despite her physical inability.
[/div]

[div class=lmh]Physical Abilities[/div]
There's Weird, Then There's the K'rarian.
With wings to make a bird jealous, night vision to best the sun, more mana than you'd find in a wizard's kitchen, steps lighter than a mouse, a natural affinity for celestial navigation, and a mind sharper than the finest steel, the K'rarian Brood certainly has its advantages.
Weird isn't Always Good.
Have you ever just punched a Harpy? It doesn't end well for them, does it? Now halve their weight, shave a third off their height, turn most of their bones into mush, and give it another go. That's what it's like to punch a Lagiran. While some broods differ, this is especially true amongst the K'rarian. Even the average male's build is weak enough to embolden a Gnome and its life short enough to comfort a Human. It's seen as an immense blessing for even the healthiest of the race to reach their fourth decade, and none in known history have seen more than a handful of moons beyond that. While it's certainly true that their eyes possess a wide field of view and almost otherworldly night vision, they do come with their own issues as well. Many races suffer ill effects from harsh lighting, but few besides the K'rarian would recoil at the mere spark of a flint. While this would likely be enough to offset the nightly benefits their compound eyes provide, there remains two more core disadvantages to mention. Their incredibly poor resolution, and their set focus. The first of these issues leaves the K'rarian with notably poor sight beyond an even minuscule distance. The second leaves them with no innate ability to view depth, and, though they can attempt to counter this by swaying side to side, this is only a half measure, leaving them entirely blind to the depth of large or distant objects. Beyond their ineffective eyes, if a K'rarian were to suffer a wound strong enough to cut through their hide, their only defence against continued exsanguination is clotting. The body will eventually repair itself, but this process is extremely slow and the wound must be protected lest the fragile seal be broken again.

An Unusual Sight!
A naturally reclusive race, Lagirans as a whole are only rarely seen beyond their secluded villages. Those that are, are nearly always bound by iron shackles and closely guarded by the most imposing men their master could find. Even then, they tend to draw a veritable crowd wherever they may go, but a free individual? That is a marvel indeed!
This Sounds Like Trouble.
The more attention one attracts, the more trouble tends to follow. In a world of cutthroats and traitors, is it really a good idea to paint a target on your sails?

Desperate Times...
If all else fails and it comes time to rely on the giant insect to turn
the tables in a fight, even Tik'i'ta knows how to dropkick a fool.
Whether or not it'll actually do anything is... Up for debate.

[div class=lmh]Magical Abilities[/div]
The Stars Themselves Stand with Me!
A daughter of distant light, Tik'i'ta draws her power from the very heavens above. From inscribing tools, weaponry, and armour with celestial runes to directing blessings onto her fellows and the ground itself; the stars have watched the comings and goings of the mortal world for longer than anyone can remember, those who have learned the ways of the astral sorcerer have simply come to know how to convince them to assist. These blessings may harden steel, sharpen minds, embolden hearts, guide the way, mend the flesh, or strike down foes. All it takes is a little persuasion.
What Do You Mean the Sun Isn't a Star?
Though one might assume our nearest celestial neighbour to be the ultimate tool of the astromancer's trade, they would be as wrong as a maddened prophet; and just as foolish. The sun's rays, though powerful by any measure, are, quite simply, too normal. All beings great and small, all lives new and old, even Tune herself has become accustomed to the constant battering of celestial energy. Fortunately, other stars, especially when bolstered by the bonds of a constellation, give off varying frequencies of energy, and may still have an impact. Unfortunately, the overwhelming energy that bathes Tune in the day has the thoroughly annoying tendency to block the power of more distant stars, rendering astral magic, to put it simply, entirely useless in the day.
Wait, What Day Is It Again?
As nearly all astral magic is based on the power provided by a single, or in some cases, a combination of specific stars or constellations, timing plays a key role in an astromancer's life. With enough planning, or, perhaps, luck, an astromancer could prove an exceptionally powerful combatant. Yet, with even the slightest misstep or moment of poor fortune, they could be rendered entirely useless. It's not entirely uncommon to see forgetful sorcerers scrambling to make up for lost time when they spot an unusual pattern hanging above them. While weaker spells can be made under any night's sky, more complicated ones, especially runic carving, can be fickle in their requirements. Fortunately, once an enchantment has been completed, it will remain effective whether those conditions continue to be met or not, but they may receive what could be described as a boost if the stars are right, with some enchantments increasing in power and others developing entirely new, if minor, side effects.

Ooh, Shiny!
An admittedly rather new addition to Tik'i'ta's stellar arsenal, the sorcerer has discovered a way to infuse certain material with raw starlight. This process is time and focus intensive, but does seem to produce some interesting results. Metals seem especially receptive to the process, shedding their natural appearance and taking on that of the night sky.
So... What's It Do?
Despite initial testing, Tik'i'ta has yet to find any practical use for this 'starmetal'. Still, perhaps her obsessive investigation will bear fruit someday. Until then, they do make some really nice paperweights!

[div class=txt][div class=lmh]Backstory[/div]
Hatched from one of the many eggs of the K'rarian broodmother, just one of a faceless, writhing horde of infant larvae, the early years of a Lagiran are a little less than pleasant to most and are, thankfully, held as a treasured secret by the vast majority of adults. Many broods embrace the surprisingly barbaric tradition of allowing hatchlings to fight, kill, and consume each other during their most vulnerable days. The K'rarian are no different, and so, blind to anything but the dim light of her brood's protected larval cavern and driven by the insatiable hunger of youth, Tik'i'ta did what all K'rarian must to survive. While every hatching cycle sees some hundreds of larvae born, it is an accepted truth that only a small handful will survive the ensuing frenzy. Like all Lagiran, Tik'i'ta's memory of this first step in her life is, at best, distant and vague. Her memory of the second step, the transitory phase where she, among the other surviving larvae, weaved the protective shell that would shield her through her transformation into an adult and where the eldest K'rarian would assign her a role in the brood, is nonexistent. Still, whether she knows it or not, this step was likely the most important of her life.

Assigned the honoured role of starkeeper, Tik'i'ta's astral powers and obsession have been forged starting with her very first true memory. At first, her tasks were simple enough. Any competent member of the brood could have taken her place and few would have noticed. Over time, however, she became as irreplaceable as the Mother herself. From observing and tracking the movements of the heavens to calling upon their aid and, eventually, directing their wrath. Any sorcerer's path is a long and winding one, an astral sorcerer's doubly so. Still, with the skilled guidance of the brood's many knowledge keepers, she was able to make more progress than most in just a matter of years. A fortunate boon for such a short-lived creature. Shortly after the end of her first decade, she had learned all that her brood could teach her. At the end of her studies but hungering for more, she became obsessive, poring over charts and recreating endless variations of the rituals she'd learned. She spent much of her second decade like this, disturbed by neither the brood nor their whispers of men who carried the banner of the 'civilized' empire to the north as they marched ever nearer her home.

These men, of course, were more than mere rumour. After all, the Mother may be paranoid, but she is very rarely wrong. They came with fire and sword, men with whom the brood had no real quarrel, but whose greed had left them blind to their own actions. They believed themselves entitled to whatever and whoever they desired, and, by their own measures of common law, they were. They claimed the brood owed them for their protection and demanded that the K'rarian concede a number of their own into servitude. The brood, unwilling to bow to man's whims and cowed by none, refused. The ensuing fight was one the K'rarain could never have won. Man may be shortsighted, but he knows how to take advantage of his foe. Caught unprepared for war and blinded by the light of day, their defeat would surely be swift and bloody. Still, the K'rarain were no fools; they were certainly not mad enough to think themselves the likely victor, but they knew that sacrifices must be made to ensure the brood could survive. As their drones and warriors clashed with the advancing tide, the knowledge keepers, mothers, and builders fled, dispersing into the wilds with grand hopes of rebuilding their home on another day, in another place. Among them, enraged and, from that day on, violently aggressive towards those who flew the flag of Driele and distrusting of Humanity in general, was Tik'i'ta.

In the few short years since her escape and sudden introduction to the wider world, Tik'i'ta has sworn to continue her path as starkeeper, venturing further and further beyond the lands she had once called home. With little care for the law that deems her people a lesser race, she has spent the vast majority of her time in places some would call vile. From rouge colonies to pirate fleets and, most recently, the ever-famed Rumblood Island, her wanderings have taken her to much of the world. Of course, barring the occasional investigation into the famed ruins she has taken a minor interest in, very little of her time has been spent on the world itself. At every stop, she observes, chronicles, and experiments with the heavens and their varying influence over Tune. Her time on the fantastical living island, in particular, has been quite enlightening. Still, with every possibility explored, it has come time to leave the pirate haven and find herself passage to whatever comes next while, ideally, avoiding enslavement along the way.
[div class=crest][/div]
[div class=bounty]A bounty will be paid upon the capture and surrender of the aforesaid person to His Majesty's Government.[/div]

[/div][/div][div class=bottomimg][/div]

.

[class=fyuricontain] max-width:1053px; min-height:600px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/ROvSFjm.jpg'); overflow:hidden; color:#000; [/class] [class=imagecontainer] max-width: 1053px; height: 580px; margin: auto!important; background-size:cover; line-height: 0px; [/class] [class=mainimage] position:relative; z-index:2; height: 100%; width: 100%; pointer-events: none; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/tca5ura.png) no-repeat center center; background-size:cover; background-position:left; [/class] [class=header] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; color:rgba(0,0,0, 1.0); font-size:50px; line-height:40px; text-align:center; [/class] [class=txtcontain] position:relative; z-index:1; [/class] [class=txt] padding:25px 30px 0px 30px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; [/class] [class=lmh] display:inline; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; [/class] [class=smh] display:inline; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; [/class] [class=bottomimg] max-width:1053px; min-height:174px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/z8BZsi3.png') no-repeat; [/class] [class=topimg] max-width:1053px; min-height:174px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/C2YTdWE.png') no-repeat; [/class] [class=imgc] display: flex; justify-content: center; align-items: center; [/class] [class=img] display: inline-block; padding: 10px; -webkit-filter: sepia(50%); filter: sepia(50%); text-align:center; pointer-events:none; border-left:1px solid #000; border-right:1px solid #000; [/class] [class=wanted] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:50px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:10px; [/class] [class=doa] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:20px; [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; padding-left:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; border-bottom:1px solid #000; [/class] [class=reason] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; [/class] [class=basics] padding:25px 30px 0px 30px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; -webkit-columns: 300px 2; -moz-columns: 300px 2; columns: 300px 2; [/class] [class=crest] float:right; width:131px; height:150px; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/EQ1xqc7.png) no-repeat; background-size: 131px 150px; [/class] [class=bounty] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; [/class]

 

[Collidias Rex]

[div class=topimg][/div][div class=fyuricontain][div class=wanted]Wanted[/div][div class=doa]Dead or Alive[/div]

[div class=imgc][div class=img]

[/div][/div]

[div class=name]Ateya Axmrhetia

[/div]
[div class=reason]Wanted for Vandalism, Petty Thievery, Piracy, Looting, Assault and Murder[/div]
[div class=basics]Age: 24

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Pansexual

Race: Lamia - Medusain

Country of Origin: Driele

Crew Position: Bosun

Skills: Carpentry, Fletching, Leatherworking, Scrimshaw, Sewing and Woodcarving. She also has a talent for lockpicking, and she's immensely good at assembling a ship in a bottle - but that's cheating

Personal Weaknesses: Ateya is an awful judge of character, and will go far for someone who will offer her a smile or nod of approval. She's desperate to please and to fit in, and this at times develops into a vicious 'us versus them' mentality. She is a sucker for food - the easiest way to win her trust is a good meal.
Oh. And she can't read.

Inventory:
- Warhammer (Maul)
- Flintlock Rifle
- Carpenter's Kit
- Sewing kit
- Woodcarving knife
- A whooole lotta chewing gum

[/div]

[div class=lmh]Physical Abilities[/div]
Lamia
Ateya is a lamia - a creature with the upper body of a humanoid and the lower body of a serpent, stretching to eighteen feet long in total. She can slither around and even swim just as effectively as any walker can move - and she can even quickly climb any object small enough to wrap around, such as a ship's mast.
There's a Lot to Love
The most immediate issue stems from her diet - she needs to eat significantly more than most folks to keep up with her nutritional requirements. And while she can easily maneuver herself around corners and cramped conditions - that does nothing to reduce the amount of space she takes up. When negotiations fail, Ateya is at a distinct disadvantage when her back is exposed. Turns out it's very easy to stab someone when there's almost twenty feet of them. When it comes to blows, she's the easiest target in the room for anyone she isn't facing directly towards.

200% Muscle Mass
Ateya weighs in at just shy of 700 pounds - and her tail is pure muscle. Even the way she moves means she's constantly exercising her abdominals. She is ripped; she can swing and twist her body to summon a humongous amount of force, she can carry loads that would typically take four men, and she even carry and fire a small naval cannon when it's properly rigged and tied off to her tail. She has a much thicker waistline than her FC, and a six-pack to boot.
Knock Yourself Out
Ateya's tail is pure muscle - but the rest of her body is decidedly not. She can use her tail to launch herself into a punch that would shatter a man's jaw ... along with her own arm. She's knocked herself out with kneejerk reactions in the past - throwing herself backward in surprise and slamming her head against a shelf or doorway. Unless armed with her trusty hammer, she's better suited to lifting or grappling.

Hammer Yes!
Ateya can swing a hammer. God damn can she swing a hammer! There's not much in the world which can survive a fully-wound hammer blow from Ateya.
Hammer Nooooooo!
God forbid she miss her target and need to find some way to stop all the force she puts behind each swing. In some locations she can compensate with an overhead blow, but only in locations where nobody is too concerned about massive holes in the floorboards. She isn't trained to fight - she's more of a siege weapon than a warrior.

[div class=lmh]Magical Abilities[/div]
Snake Singer
The first of the Medusa arts: Ateya has the gift of 'snake-singing'. With but a word she can cause ropes, string, hair or any similarly serpentine object to bend to her will. She can tie knots with a hummed tune, braid hair with a song, cause a harp's strings to thrum with a whistle.
Venom-Reliant
Ateya's song can only produce minor effects without the assistance of her venom, limited to slow, gentle and imprecise movements that do not require great force or manual dexterity. The range of this ability is dictated by her own vocal volume - meaning this ability's duration is shorter when used at range. Ateya should learn some breathing techniques some day.


Petrifying Gaze
The second of the Medusa arts: Ateya's gaze can turn material into a hard substance with the texture and appearance of stone, and can revert it at will. This petrification does not affect the weight of the material. She can't 'turn off' this ability, but since it requires her to focus both eyes on the target, she keeps one eye covered by an eyepatch to prevent its activation. She often uses this ability to perform repairs - 'sewing' or tying objects back together then hardening the threads that bind them, or mixing her saliva with pasty materials to create a hardening adhesive agent. She's usually seen chewing gum for this very reason.
Also Venom-Reliant
The depth and rate of this petrification is limited to approximately five millimeters past surface over five seconds unless the object in question is soaked with her venom. For any area soaked by her venom, the petrification penetrates an inch beneath the surface over only one second. Ateya can only petrify living material if it is marked by her venom, and only the area marked by her venom.

Medusa Venom
The final, but most subtle of the Medusa arts: Ateya's saliva is faintly purple in colour, and causes light stains on contact - marking anything her venom touches with her influence. These stains cannot be naturally removed, though the 'venomous' aspect of her saliva means that many basic restorative magicks will do the trick. Any object soaked with her venom becomes much easier to manipulate with her other magic. Envenomed ropes can be made to thrash about, move quickly or move with deft precision when she sings.
Water Soluble
While water won't wash away her venom once applied - she certainly can't apply it while underwater, meaning any lower hull repairs must be performed the old-fashioned way, or while in the air. Coating large objects will also neccessitate a good deal of drinkable liquid nearby to replace the lost fluids.

[div class=txt][div class=lmh]Backstory[/div]

Ateya throws back her head in laughter.
"No shit it's a tragic story. If I had a happy or stable life I'd have opened a fuckin' bakery and gotten married, jackass."​

Perhaps fate is cruel. Perhaps it is only those who read fate who own that cruelty. But Ateya was not blessed.

Lamia exist at the extremes of society - either lounging in the lap of luxury or trapped in squalor. Their muscular snake-like power bodies afford them incredible strength and make them excellent physical laborers, but their size means they're often kept indebted by their nutritional requirements - even moreso when a typical clutch is between 3 and 5. Traditionalist Lamia tend to fall into the poorer category, as their beliefs place a great emphasis the cooperation and survival of the whole family unit. Those who know finer trappings - though they would never admit such a thing - are those who believe this traditionalism will inevitably be their death, and these individuals tend to hold some unsettling Darwinist beliefs about raising their children. The Lamia family unit is one of two things: a tight-knit, poorly-fed band of two parents and three-to-four children of the same age, or a pair of wealthy and respectable parents with one to two very close children of different ages.

With the ever-growing theological superpower of Theace as a neighbour, traditionalist Lamia of Driele have doubled-down on their pagan beliefs in a stubborn feat of resistance against Vidoni. This has resulted in a great deal of superstition where the most inconsequential of traditonalist beliefs are promoted in a battle for worldly relevance. For instance, eggshell divination once performed only upon children born under the full moon is practiced regularly and routinely for every child hatched.

In Lamia tradition, a diviner gathered the broken fragments of Ateya's egg and placed them in a pot of water over a stove. When the water had boiled away, he peered into the pot and read the symbols left in those broken fragments.

An ill omen - the child would be a medusa. Venomous. Eerie. Possessing both the unsettling magic to turn flesh to stone, and the wickedness to do so.

Her family kept her around, obliged to raise her for better or worse. As is tradition, Ateya and her siblings took up petty jobs at a young age to each contribute to the family's meals. A family of six in the slums on the outskirts of Rydue. From an outside perspective she might have seemed to be a healthy young girl - while the Lamia community shied away from her, she made fast friends with anyone else. She would explore outside the city, venture into the surrounding forests with her friends and their families. Amelie's father was a hunter, and Ateya would help skin and carry back the animals he killed - in return she would be given any spare meat to bring back to her family. She would learn to tan hide and carve bone. Where she lacked close interaction with her siblings and parents, she found surrogate familial figures in her peers. She looked like a happy child - and maybe for a while she was. But feeling constant distrust and suspicion from your own people and in the place you call 'home' ... that messes you up inside.

Lamia typically grow up in large, closely-knit families - they expect frequent company, and close company. Somewhere into adolescence Ateya sought to fill that void with the wrong kind of people, and she started spending time with the wrong crowd. Thieves and pickpockets, mostly. Petty criminals. Her mother interpreted this as 'the medusa' coming out finally - and that struck Ateya to the core. She was young and impressionable at the time, and mother's claim cut deep. She didn't think that perhaps it was mother's fault. Perhaps it was because Ateya felt insecure about her relationship with her family. Perhaps it was because she was desperate for some kind of validation and closeness, no matter where it came from. Ateya didn't think that, because she was a child. Mother must have been right.

She wasn't forced into slavery. No. Ateya sold herself into slavery, at the age of fourteen. She'd sell herself and whatever price she fetched would go to her family to apologize for her burden. Then they would be free of her - and she could live an honest life doing hard work.

Self loathing is an easy thing to maintain in the right context. Money, power, education - some situations make room to allow for it. But being a slave was not on such place. She needed something to push her, something to keep her going. She almost starved in her first week, and she needed a reason to keep going. Something powerful, something with force behind it. She couldn't survive in this world hating herself - so what if it was somehow someone else's fault? What if this situation was her parents' fault? Her peoples' fault? The world's fault? Yeah. That was something she could be angry about.

She spent five years working in various construction and dumb labor roles, and the tireless physical labor and poor life conditions saw her anger boiled into something malicious. Some would have argued that it was inevitable - but Ateya had resolved to believe it was someone else's fault. It was their fault she was like this - and anything she did next? Well, she was hardly responsible for her own malice.

She embraced her gifts, and she sung her way free. She forged prongs from the petrified tips of her own hair, and she picked the lock to her cell. When a guard tried to stop her, she wrapped around him and crushed him without hesitation. Killing someone was childishly easy once she had the motive for it. Frighteningly easy. She was almost paralyzed by her own apathy. But it wasn't her fault.

... was it?

She needed to escape, and escape fast. She made her way to the port and hastily picked up work on a ship as a rigger. Despite her emaciated state, her tremendous strength, climbing ability and skill in carpentry earned her a spot on an outgoing vessel. By the morning after her escape, she was already on the seas.

Ateya was an angry lamia on the seas with a willingness to get her hands dirty, a grudge against the world at large and a deep-down desire for some kind of family and sense of genuine belonging in the world. It wasn't long before she found herself in the company of pirates and with a bounty on her head.

She has currently found herself holed up on Rumblood Isle after her last ship took a devastating hit, losing a good chunk of her crew after a botched boarding attempt and a good chunk on their loot in tithe. Her crewmates had found themselves in a particularly pensive mood, even going as far as formally announcing their retirement. An argument broke out between the lively Ateya and her somber comrades, and she furiously denounced them and left in a rage. Now she's looking for new work - a new crew who she can work and prosper with. A new crew who won't do anything dumb like leaving over a few deaths. A new crew where she can belong.

[div class=crest][/div]
[div class=bounty]A bounty will be paid upon the capture and surrender of the aforesaid person to His Majesty's Government.[/div]

[/div][/div][div class=bottomimg][/div]

.

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[Kimiwriter]

[div class=topimg][/div][div class=fyuricontain][div class=wanted]Wanted[/div][div class=doa]Dead or Alive[/div]

[div class=imgc][div class=img]

[/div][/div]

[div class=name]{Ares Murkwing}

[/div]
[div class=reason]Wanted for {Thievery, Assault, Attempted Murder, Destruction of Property and Piracy}[/div]
[div class=basics]Age: 25

Gender: male

Sexuality: bisexual

Race: Harpy

Country of Origin: Driele

Crew Position: crew member

Skills: Navigation, thievery

Personal Weaknesses: shiny objects, a violent temper though it takes a lot for him to reach this point, flying on a clear day, and his feathers

Inventory: A knife and pistol, a single change of clothes, a small crystal pendant, and a comb for his feathers
[/div]

[div class=lmh]Physical Abilities[/div]

Ability One-- Flight
Ares has powerful, broad wings which he uses for flight up to 22 mph. He prefers to glide when flying to save energy.
Ability One Limitations
A childhood wing injury does make high speed and long distance flying difficult. Ares prefers to wait on a high perch until his target it closer to prevent aggravating the old injury.

Ability Two-- Sharp sighted
Because of his hawk-harpy lineage, he has excellent eye sight
Ability Two Limitations
His night vision is poor, limiting his work to the daytime hours.

Ability Three-- Claws and Talons
Ares has powerful claws and talons (along with a sharp beak) which he can use in combat
Ability Three Limitations
While his claws and talons are powerful, Ares lacks the physical weight to do series damage in a hand to hand fight and may only leave deep gashes that are not life threatening unless he manages to strike an artery. He is better suited to surprise attacks from the sky where he uses the speed of his dive to knock out opponants

Ability Four-- Sleight of Hand
From card games to swiping trinkets from tables and bags, Ares uses his sleight of hand to help himself to what he needs.
Ability Four Limitations
Talons and feathers are a bit more noticable than nible hands. Ares has to be careful how he uses this ability, usually limiting it to items from tables or as a prank among friends in a friendly card game.

​

[div class=lmh]Magical Abilities[/div]

Ability One-- Silent movement
A minor spell that helps to muffle the sound of Ares' flight or movement
Ability One Limitations
This only works if someone is already unaware of his presence. The spell is easily broken when someone's attention moves to Ares whether by seeing him or his wings brushing up against something that creates a sound. This spell can also not be shared with others.

Ability Two-- Blinding Light
Ares can create a sudden blinding flash of light that affects anyone near him, giving him and his allies a chance to attack or retreat.
Ability Two Limitations
Ares must close his eyes when he casts the spell, otherwise he would temporarily blind himself. He also needs to warn any allies of the spell or they could be blinded. Finally, this spell requires a lot of energy and leaves him exhausted after more than one bright flash.
​

[div class=txt][div class=lmh]Backstory[/div]
Born into slavery with little memory of his mother and father, Ares learned to keep his head down and wings close to his body. Useless for intense labor, his masters had him moving cargo or cleaning the high windows and ceilings in their lavish mansions, always with a tether to keep him from flying away. The one time he tried, his wings were clipped, the bone fracturing in his struggle. Since then, he’s avoided close contact with others.

By 10, he’d been sold to an aging merchant, Master Quince. Unlike his other masters, Quince preferred Ares be able to fly, delivering messages to the various merchant ships and business partners. It was the first time Ares experienced flying without a leash and he longed for the day he could fly as far as he wanted to. Quince told the young harpy if he worked hard, he could earn his freedom. Ares worked hard, earning a position as an assistant to Quince in his old age. As much as he appreciated not lugging heavy building material own at the harbor, Ares counted the days until his master fulfilled his promise.

Unfortunately, Quince grew ill and his son took over the business. His first order of business was to sell Ares to another merchant, claiming the money would be used to pay for his father’s medical bills. Furious, Ares protested and demanded his freedom. His new master ordered the harpy’s wings and talons clipped. Ares lashed out, injuring his new master and one of his assistants. Now accused of assault and attempted murder, Ares flew for his life, escaping the city with nothing.

He flew along the coast, avoiding major cities and stealing to keep himself alive and out of the slaver’s clutches. Finally, he joined a crew and set sail, only to learn afterwards they were pirates. He quickly took to the open ocean, happily aiding the crew in attacking Driele ships and burning any that were used to ship slaves. Still a hunted harpy, he kept his head low among the crew but enjoyed his new freedom. Once the ship reached Bloodrum Island, Ares itched to get back onto the open water.
[div class=crest][/div]
[div class=bounty]A bounty will be paid upon the capture and surrender of the aforesaid person to His Majesty's Government.[/div]

[/div][/div][div class=bottomimg][/div]

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[class=fyuricontain] max-width:1053px; min-height:600px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/ROvSFjm.jpg'); overflow:hidden; color:#000; [/class] [class=imagecontainer] max-width: 1053px; height: 580px; margin: auto!important; background-size:cover; line-height: 0px; [/class] [class=mainimage] position:relative; z-index:2; height: 100%; width: 100%; pointer-events: none; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/tca5ura.png) no-repeat center center; background-size:cover; background-position:left; [/class] [class=header] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; color:rgba(0,0,0, 1.0); font-size:50px; line-height:40px; text-align:center; [/class] [class=txtcontain] position:relative; z-index:1; [/class] [class=txt] padding:25px 30px 0px 30px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; [/class] [class=lmh] display:inline; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; [/class] [class=smh] display:inline; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; [/class] [class=bottomimg] max-width:1053px; min-height:174px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/z8BZsi3.png') no-repeat; [/class] [class=topimg] max-width:1053px; min-height:174px; margin:auto; background:url('https://i.imgur.com/C2YTdWE.png') no-repeat; [/class] [class=imgc] display: flex; justify-content: center; align-items: center; [/class] [class=img] display: inline-block; padding: 10px; -webkit-filter: sepia(50%); filter: sepia(50%); text-align:center; pointer-events:none; border-left:1px solid #000; border-right:1px solid #000; [/class] [class=wanted] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:50px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:10px; [/class] [class=doa] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:20px; [/class] [class=name] display: inline-block; font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:30px; padding-left:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; border-bottom:1px solid #000; [/class] [class=reason] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; [/class] [class=basics] padding:25px 30px 0px 30px; text-align:justify; color:#313131; -webkit-columns: 300px 2; -moz-columns: 300px 2; columns: 300px 2; [/class] [class=crest] float:right; width:131px; height:150px; background: url(https://i.imgur.com/EQ1xqc7.png) no-repeat; background-size: 131px 150px; [/class] [class=bounty] font-family: 'Trade Winds', cursive; font-size:20px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:5px; [/class]

 

[Archon]

[div class=topimg][/div][div class=fyuricontain][div class=wanted]Wanted[/div][div class=doa]Dead or Alive[/div]

[div class=imgc][div class=img]

[/div][/div]

[div class=name]Arlan Redwell

[/div]
[div class=reason]Wanted for Murder, Theft, Piracy, Sacrilege and Heresy [/div]
[div class=basics]
Age: 30

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Race: Human

Country of Origin: Theace

Crew Position: Crewman

Skills: Reading, writing, athletics, singing, , drinking

Personal Weaknesses: Forbidden tomes, a good life discussion, carefree, hot-headed, drinking

Inventory:

• A single cutlass
• A single flintlock
• Books on Academia - of Philosophy
• Tomes on Necromancy

[/div]

[div class=lmh]Physical Abilities[/div]

Swashbuckler
As an avid pirate and experienced duelist, Arlan is well-practiced with the cutlass, wielding the bite of steel with a conniving swiftness, light of foot and deftly agile, betraying his boisterous aura; the shades of the swashbuckler.
Rock, Paper, Scissors
The swashbuckler exploits a lightness of body; unsuited to heavy armour and foes of imposing physicality.

Gunslinger
In tangent with the pirate's life, Arlan is an avid user of the flintlock pistol.
Primitive
Whilst the weapon is fine, it's reload times are long and disorderly; without access to a plethora of pistols, Arlan is limited to a single-shot per firing.

Cunning Fighter
Arlan is quick-witted and sharp of mind, able to apply critical thinking and strategy in the midst of combat to get an angle on the opposition, or to exploit an external force.
Lady Luck
Sometimes, strategy and thought are no match for the blatantly superior or inhuman. A sharp mind isn't always better than a sharp blade. Some foes cannot be out-thought.

[div class=lmh]Magical Abilities[/div]

Necromancy
An illegal heresy, Arlan is a necromancer, able to twist the tides of the spiritual realm to conjure denizens from death and form minions of bones.
Undeath's Constraints
Necromancy needs fuel, a servant cannot be raised without an available corpse, or an assortment of bones on stand-by.

Lifedrain Property
The teachings of necromancy can convert the essence of the living into the essence of undeath, the necromancer can harness power and strength from a living target which allows them to redirect the drained force in a mighty spell-powered punch. A target who is drained loses energy and strength, whilst the necromancer gains both.
Circumstantial
Draining the lifeforce of a living being requires a solid grip with both hands, and the force absorbed from a few seconds isn't nearly enough to make a foe powerless. It would take at least 10 seconds of uninterrupted draining for the necromancer to harness enough energy for a spell-powered punch, and three times that to kill them. Drained energy cannot be stored longer than a few minutes.

[div class=txt][div class=lmh]Backstory[/div]
Arlan's life was of little acclaim, born the third son of a venerable and loud Priest - the esteemed Father - who's indoctrination and teachings battered the locals under an iron boot of moralistic preaching, whilst the man himself was a brat and a craven, who exploited his family; neglected his wife; ostracized his own sons. The young Arlan was cared for methodically by a tired and distant mother, the youngest child of four - all of which a decade older than him - meant that, as he aged, so too did the Redwell numbers dwindle. Each time the same pattern occurred, loud screeching, the flash of steel, the paint of red, an unhinged and almost manic viciousness settled on the blank shadow of Dorion Redwell - his father's - visage. He'd tried to assault his own son, Arlan's brother, with the harsh bite of a forged castle sword. He left. Then the next, in a similar outburst. And the last.

Arlan was only 12 when he found himself alone in a house of suffering; of mayhem. By day, he was dragged throughout great religious sermons and reverences to foreign entities, too young too understand, he could only comply, each mistake punished with a loud reprimand and the whip of flesh. His mother raught him to write, to read, to study the meanings of theology and toapply himself to the faith. Arlan hated the faith. It made his life miserable, it made his father cruel and volatile. The child grew bitter, and bitterness began to turn to vengeance; to rebelliousness; to hopelessness. Each day, he dreamed of distant lands, of an escape from the cruel existence of oppression forced upon him by the so-called Faith.

Eventually, when the sun-kissed beaches of distant shored were explored, and his imagination had dreamt the full extent of Arlan's visionary ideas, and the winds of magic settled in the deepest pits of the heart's desire - he decided to act - to do something about this wretched existence of lovelessness - of abuse. In the wake of night, the sixteen year old pilfered his father's most well-guarded books and treasured tomes, years under heel had left nothing to error. Arlan knew where the key's to the hidden compartment was, buried in the confines of a secret room, activated by way of a hidden bookcase. It was child's play, the year's spent studying honed the mind; the years of anguish honed the scheming eye. Taking off with whatever treasured baubles and ill-gotten coin he could, Arlan drifted from town to town. Free from his father's yoke. He booked passage to Netherstand Haunt, desiring freedom and independence from any-and-all authority after the beast that was his indoctrinated father. Finding the right contacts wasn't easy, education and a harsh life had made Arlan adept at navigating the underworld despite his inexperience; the right coin purse here, a flattering word or two there.

Upon the Pirate Port, at just 16, his true life began. Unbeknownst to himself, hif father has invested a King's sum into tracking the errant boy down; the books stolen from his clutches were beyond heresy, but ancient and forbidden spelltomes the man was charged with destroying over two decades ago. Arlan himself has studied them religiously, tapping into the dark arts of necromancy and puppeteering the very essence of life and death. To him, it is no different than the ability to throw fire or conjure great tides, magic is magic, no matter the stigma. He earned a slow life as a deckhand for the first few years of his piracy, until the age of 20, where he his proficiency in the art of necromancy earned him a reputation and unique proficiency to be a boarding combatant. He sailed with the self-styled Pirate Lord Sah-Sahsin for 8 years, becoming First Mate at 27, before the ship was ambushed by Bounty Hunters and the Pirates were smashed. Arlan spent a year in exile, avoiding those headhunters who would earn a fat coin from his demise, before at 28 he finally returned to the Pirate's Life. He signed onto the next worthy Captain he could find - the opportunistic Queen of the Whimsical Lady.
[div class=crest][/div]
[div class=bounty]A bounty will be paid upon the capture and surrender of the aforesaid person to His Majesty's Government.[/div]

[/div][/div][div class=bottomimg][/div]

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