- Messages
- 26
- Character Biography
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The Oceanborn was a stolen imperial galleon, captained by former pirates of Teth along with a few mercenaries and blades-for-hire for one reason and one reason only... To transport the poor refugees from the Gulf of Ryt to the secure walls of Oban, several hundred miles south along the coast of Liadain. The fact that the ship led them directly through pirate-ruled waters meant that having a pirate crew would provide excellent protection... Or so that was what the refugees that boarded the Oceanborn were told. According to Ras' new client, however, the Oceanborn would be attacked, and that's when Ras would have his target.
'Lydir Morrinth... A cruel pirate, reveling in the panic his image invokes, more so than the riches he plunders from the trade ships. You'll know it's him when you see that gold-laden crossbow. It's the bastard's trademark. Ah, and don't worry about your payment. Morrenth has enough jewels and coin in the belly of his vessel to satisfy you ten times over.'
And so, Ras would board the Oceanborn at a sketchy port not connected to any real settlement, along with at least four dozen others seeking a better life far from the one they'd be leaving behind, so close to the Blightlands and under the shadow of the floating Thiria. Already, Ras was directing glares at the crew of the ship, each of them dirty, dressed in tattered rags with various missing teeth, and covered in crude weapons and battered armor. They didn't look like the most trustworthy of folks, but surely they wouldn't even risk a job like this if they didn't intend on protecting these people. The vessel wasn't much better either. Much of the wood was rotten, boards broken and splintered, having to be held together with rope and clusters of rusty nails in various places. The whole ship was decorated with tattered banners of several past defeated ships, as well as the salvaged wheels of said vessels. Bright lanterns clustered the hull of the ship, leaving behind a trail of fire as they cut through the sea. It was by no means stealthy, and perhaps that was why Ras' client was so sure that Morrinth would be here.
(Image credit: Pirates of the Caribbean)
As the ship left the port, Ras leaned against the railing on the starboard side, looking out at the deep blue waves as the wind caught the sails just right, lurching them forward with a gentle bobbing motion. He looked around at the refugees... Most were clearly malnourished, ill and lacking anything as far as funds were concerned. It tugged at his heart just a bit, seeing couples with young children, knowing how long they must have gone being unable to provide. Here he was, readying himself to add to their suffering, knowing a pirate attack was on the way, and not saying a thing about it. Still, it mattered not. He had a job to do, and once Lydir Morrinth was good and dead, all of them would be smooth sailing to Oban once again, no harm, no foul.
"Oi!" He was taken out of his thoughts by a harsh voice off to his side, a barefoot pirate with squinted eyes and a patchy, greying beard looking him over as he tugged a thick rope, hoisting one of the main sails. "What are you thinkin' so hard about, boy? About a week's travel and all your worries'll be good and over, yeah?" Ras instinctively thought about turning his back to the old sailor and finding somewhere private to think, but instead, he stayed on their good side. It was the smarter option, after all. "Yes sir... Just not used to sailing, is all." He gave a smile and a nod, keeping his cloak tight around himself. "What are you plannin' on doing in Oban, anywho? You don't look like the farmin' sort. Not much of a hunter, either!" Ras shook his head, chuckling. "Blacksmith's apprentice. My mentor's waiting on me." As always, he blended into the lie as natural as could be. The pirate just let loose a laugh, walking over and roughly patting him on the shoulder. "Hope you'll have a discount in mind for the lads sailin' this old gal once we've docked?" Ras didn't answer, just watching as he disappeared below deck.
He slowly returned his gaze to the rolling waves, watching as the early morning began to truly show in the overcast sky. Likely, he'd stay glued to this spot for awhile... Who knows when the attack would come? His instincts told him it'd be a nighttime raid, but he couldn't be too sure. Despite his willingness to trust those helping to protect the Oceanborn, he couldn't be too certain that there wasn't at least one that could complicate things. Pirates and mercenaries always seemed to have their quirks and own motivations, after all... Still, he hadn't even considered what strange characters could have been lurking among the refugees, either. On dangerous waters like these, anything could happen.
'Lydir Morrinth... A cruel pirate, reveling in the panic his image invokes, more so than the riches he plunders from the trade ships. You'll know it's him when you see that gold-laden crossbow. It's the bastard's trademark. Ah, and don't worry about your payment. Morrenth has enough jewels and coin in the belly of his vessel to satisfy you ten times over.'
And so, Ras would board the Oceanborn at a sketchy port not connected to any real settlement, along with at least four dozen others seeking a better life far from the one they'd be leaving behind, so close to the Blightlands and under the shadow of the floating Thiria. Already, Ras was directing glares at the crew of the ship, each of them dirty, dressed in tattered rags with various missing teeth, and covered in crude weapons and battered armor. They didn't look like the most trustworthy of folks, but surely they wouldn't even risk a job like this if they didn't intend on protecting these people. The vessel wasn't much better either. Much of the wood was rotten, boards broken and splintered, having to be held together with rope and clusters of rusty nails in various places. The whole ship was decorated with tattered banners of several past defeated ships, as well as the salvaged wheels of said vessels. Bright lanterns clustered the hull of the ship, leaving behind a trail of fire as they cut through the sea. It was by no means stealthy, and perhaps that was why Ras' client was so sure that Morrinth would be here.
(Image credit: Pirates of the Caribbean)
As the ship left the port, Ras leaned against the railing on the starboard side, looking out at the deep blue waves as the wind caught the sails just right, lurching them forward with a gentle bobbing motion. He looked around at the refugees... Most were clearly malnourished, ill and lacking anything as far as funds were concerned. It tugged at his heart just a bit, seeing couples with young children, knowing how long they must have gone being unable to provide. Here he was, readying himself to add to their suffering, knowing a pirate attack was on the way, and not saying a thing about it. Still, it mattered not. He had a job to do, and once Lydir Morrinth was good and dead, all of them would be smooth sailing to Oban once again, no harm, no foul.
"Oi!" He was taken out of his thoughts by a harsh voice off to his side, a barefoot pirate with squinted eyes and a patchy, greying beard looking him over as he tugged a thick rope, hoisting one of the main sails. "What are you thinkin' so hard about, boy? About a week's travel and all your worries'll be good and over, yeah?" Ras instinctively thought about turning his back to the old sailor and finding somewhere private to think, but instead, he stayed on their good side. It was the smarter option, after all. "Yes sir... Just not used to sailing, is all." He gave a smile and a nod, keeping his cloak tight around himself. "What are you plannin' on doing in Oban, anywho? You don't look like the farmin' sort. Not much of a hunter, either!" Ras shook his head, chuckling. "Blacksmith's apprentice. My mentor's waiting on me." As always, he blended into the lie as natural as could be. The pirate just let loose a laugh, walking over and roughly patting him on the shoulder. "Hope you'll have a discount in mind for the lads sailin' this old gal once we've docked?" Ras didn't answer, just watching as he disappeared below deck.
He slowly returned his gaze to the rolling waves, watching as the early morning began to truly show in the overcast sky. Likely, he'd stay glued to this spot for awhile... Who knows when the attack would come? His instincts told him it'd be a nighttime raid, but he couldn't be too sure. Despite his willingness to trust those helping to protect the Oceanborn, he couldn't be too certain that there wasn't at least one that could complicate things. Pirates and mercenaries always seemed to have their quirks and own motivations, after all... Still, he hadn't even considered what strange characters could have been lurking among the refugees, either. On dangerous waters like these, anything could happen.