Volodar, Captain of the Trident

Biographical information

Birthplace Mlartlar, the city of coral Born Died Age 58 Home the open seas Sexuality Pronouns

Physical description

Race Sea Elf Sub-Race Gender male Height Mass Hair color Eye color Skin color

Political information

Affiliation(s) Occupation pirate, smuggler, slaver, raider... whatever brings profit Clan(s) Caste Domain Masters Apprentices Alias(es)

Out-of-character information

Writer Created on Avatar https://www.pinterest.com/pin/5629568275301171/

A third son in a royal household is always destined for the gods, one way or another. The first to be raised and schooled as an heir to the city. The second to serve as the first's strong right hand and prepare for disaster. The third though is promised to the gods in whatever way they see fit. Many times a seer will test them and read their fate in blood and bones. For Volodar there was no question, he was called by the storm.

Even as his mother brought him into the world the storm raged. A great tempest that raged so hard the priests of the Storm Lord declared it a holy day. As the boy came forth a great blast of lightning set fire to the trees on one of the mountain tops above the grotto where the ships were kept. There could be no doubt the boy was called by the Storm Father to fulfill a destiny on the open seas.

With two paths before him reaving and trading even as a child he clung to the first. True honor and duty to the Storm Father did not come in trade, but in pillage and blood. His royal father appreciated this as the support from the priests of the Storm Father grew as did the boy.

As the young man hardened and grew into a warrior his ears were always open to the priests of the Storm Father. During one of his early trips as a rower during his off time he began to learn the sacred magics of the storm. While he was more keen on his own blade as a youth he still accepted this lesson eagerly.

Such was his youth, a mixture of court and ship. Learning everything about the vessel he would one day call his own, and learning at home his place in the family dynamic. What time was left was taken by the priests of the Storm Father, who thought it only a matter of time until the Storm Lord reached out and touched the boy marking him his own. It was a life of duty and training and despite the hardships there was praise and comradery from his fellow raiders, his brothers and the priesthood. It was a good childhood for a man raised to spill blood.

At the young age of fifty he finally reached command of his own ship. The galley Trident was commissioned years ago by his father, and if there was a love of young Volodar it was the Trident.

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