Name: Perhaps a rather obvious question.
Moniker: Letting people know your real name is a vulnerability down here. Perhaps you would like to be referred to as sir or madam? Or perhaps more egalitarian terms. Maybe you wish your profession to be your identifying trait, or some quality of your personality? Why not both? Take the sardonic bartender for example. He has never let so much as a scrap of his name slip. Not even so much as an initial.

Appearance: Everyone knows you measure a person's worth by their clothes. How do you look? Gentlemanly and well-cultured? Furtive and shadowy? Perhaps you prefer people think you a brawny and dangerous individual?
Skills: Why would a prospective zee captain want to take you along out to zee. Yes, perhaps you are a great opera singer, but that is of no consequence when a gargantuan zee-beast is winding up to break the hull in two.

Secret: Of couse, no one would ask you to cough up your deepest, darkest secrets, but it would be good to know some scraps. Perhaps you displeased someone or something and are looking for atonement. Or maybe the zee holds answers to a question you have been trying to answer your whole life? Really, just a scrap of this knowledge would be enough.

Gunnary Officer James F. Howard
"I've Fought On Lands From Oceania To Africa. Duty To The Crown Never Ends."

Appearance
Extremely tall in height, reaching somewhere along the lines of 6 Foot 8 Inches, James possesses the well built, and strong frame that all his fellow sailors should aspire to share. He has a regal bearing about himself, despite the relative squalor of naval vessels. His body is, rather well muscled for an officer being something more like that of pugalist of a man. He has sharp, edged, and most certainly noble features, in the form of high cheekbones, a slightly pointed chin, thins lips, a straight and thin nose, thin eyebrows, and rather perfectly shaped eyes. Though, these have all seen better days due to the ravaging ways of war and travel at seas both under and over ground. These features are thin, but not to the point of appearing gaunt, weak, and sickly, if anything they are brimming with life when compared to others. His eyes have a rather icy, bright blue/grey colour, in contrast to his extremely pale skin which runs from porcelain white to something akin to alabaster. His hair, is a bright mane of red hair. His facial hair is similar, and is in a style similar to "Gentleman Badger's" mustache.

Skills
It is to be said without a doubt that James is a highly talented and skilled officer when it comes to naval guns to nigh on all sorts, being they older seeminly archaic Napoleonic guns or far new and perhaps... odd, arms. It has been said that while his mind hangs off in some old seasoned state of enduring imperialism, his hand has not lost it's skill at arms.What is also rather notable is his skill as a swordsman. For all officers are expected to show some degree of skill at arms, and so James' talent emerged as a skill with bladed weapons.Lastly, it is perhaps rather useless given the nature of the under zee, but James is actually rather proficient in several languages, those being English, Russian, German, and even some mild amounts of Spanish.

Secret
While it is most rude to ask a man of his deeds which best remain unsaid, James had a rather certain encounter during a war back not so long. His nerve broke, and many of those soldiers have a particular issue to settle with him...

Name
Accalon

Moniker
“I go by The Thief of Swords… ‘course, that’s a mouthful, so most folk just call me “Swordy.” But let’s get one thing straight: if we’re somewhere formal, or somethin’ important is goin’ on, you say the full thing. I won’t take being embarrassed by… Well, I keep the damn ship running, so the least you could do is say the full thing when we’re bein’ all formal-like.”

Appearance
“You can see well enough, can’t you? Is this about my size? I may not be the biggest bastard on this ship, but I can hold my own. Running the rooftops does a body good, ‘specially if nobody catches you.

“The hair? Look, I’m not cutting it. Got my reasons. Tie it back when I’m working, it’s never done me any harm. Won’t do you any harm.

“Well I can’t very well tie my skin back! I gotta wear something sturdy in case the engine decides to belch some smoke at me while I’m working. I keep somethin’ nicer under my bunk, in case you ever got somewhere fancy to take us, a nice dark suit, but anybody who’s gonna work on an engine is gonna wear clothes like this most of the time, in case there’s an emergency with the thing keeping us moving out here. Leather’s good for the job, silk isn’t.

“Accent? Yeah, I’m Welsh. That a problem?”

Skills
“I keep the damn engines running, that’s what I do. Guns too. But if I had to pick one to go without—all hypothetical, mind you, anybody dumb enough to go without either might as well jump overboard—I’d say the guns. Learned it from some rats in Fallen London. Did ‘em a favor, and they owed me. And don’t ask why I helped those L. B., I had my reasons. Point is, they’re the best, and they taught me, so I’m the best. Got it?

“I’m also a damn good thief. That part o’ the moniker ain’t a metaphor. Yeah, probably the best thief you’ve ever met. They even wrote a penny-dreadful about it. Damn thing was terrible, downplayed the magnificence, so I was obligated to steal all the money the damn fool made from it.

“O’ course you’ve never heard of me. I wouldn’t be a very good thief if I had, would I?”

Secret
“A secret? Well, I’ll expect one back from you. Fair trade, and all. You know how they call me the Thief of Swords? Well, I never actually stole any swords. Once I worked with some less-than-gentle folk with some sword-like qualities. I still have… Well, just tell me if we’re ever going to sail by the Khanate, alright? Alright.”