Race/Species: Human

Gender: Male

Age: 37

Role: (mad)Surgeon/Doctor

Skills/Traits:

• Master Surgeon - Advanced medical treatments, capable of field surgery, master of medicines and poisons, and an alarming understanding of creature anatomy.
• Toxic immunity - Not complete immunity but it would take the sting of a very dangerous creature to bring this doctor to deaths door. Airborne poisons have no effect thanks to the incense of the mask he wears.
• Minor Combat proficient - Fighting in the field as soldier and surgeon alike has led to the development of Tellers reflexes and battle readiness, making him a fierce presence in the thick of a fight when needed.
• Dead nerves - While not necessarily a 'skill' it should be stated that, thanks to all the chemicals he has inhaled or injected himself with, the nerves on a large part of his body do not allow him to experience physical pain to the same degree others might.
• Alchemist - Healing can come from the mystical arts but 'Teller' has trained in art of precision medicine in the form of vials and potions. The most common types are; Paralysis dart, Healing tonic, Toxic vial.

Weapons:

• Toxicity master - The belt of toxins on his chest contains a powerful anesthetic, a healing salve, and a vial of the deadliest toxic concoction Anton ever conceived.
• Right hip is a hand crafted miniature crossbow pistol. While not very powerful, the bolts are razor sharp and coated in his poisons for rapid application. Anton keeps a holster of these bolts inside his coat in a special holster to keep them from moving around or falling out.
• On his left hip is a a curved Khopesh kept at a razor sharp edge. The weapon itself is largely used as a butchers cleaver on the operating table. One clean stroke can take an infected arm off at the elbow.

Physical Description:

Teller stands at 6 feet tall with a style all his own, forgoing the knight in shining armor role and jumping right into the mad surgeon territory. A long coat made of tough but faded leather, matching gloves and solid boots with plating on the front, make up his usual attire. Chainmail has been sewn into the fabric making it a tad heavy but offering excellent protection. Perhaps the most striking feature is the mask he wears, featuring a conical 'beak' extending from the nose with two large green glass eyes. His face is entirely obscured, but his vision despite the helmet is entirely unrestricted. Inside the 'beak' is a soft incense meant to relax him and break down harsh poisons. A tophat for style finishes the look.

His outer coat has a belt wrapping around from shoulder to hip with 3 flasks filled with, in order; Lethal Toxin, numbing poison, healing tonic.

There are a few more caches of these liquids on his person at all times along with 5 syringes all full of one of the toxins. On his person for all to see is a small enchanted hand crossbow, to which he has a holster of bolts in his coat for ready use.
(The glasses of his mask and the vials are not glowing green. The glasses are clear, if a bit dark. As for his vials, they are all kept in crystal clear vials of enchanted glass. To prevent shattering.)

Armor:

Equipment/Other
In the pocket of his coat is a medical kit filled with various supplies. Alchemic ingredients are kept safe in his personal quarters.

• Gauze
• bandages
• healing salve
• burn ointment
• incense
• scissors
• scalpel
• tweezers

Mental Description/Personality: Demented. This man, before the grace of any god that would stand witness, holds no love for life beyond fulfilling his oath to keep them breathing. Years of abusive experimentation on himself and unfortunate victims leaves behind nothing but the shell of human shin wrapped around a darkening mind obsessed with discovering the secrets of a creatures anatomy, habits, mating rituals, and cataloging everything he discovers.

Despite the obvious insanity, Anton is a brilliant mind. Friendly to a degree but ultimately an unsettling person to be around. A lack of conscience makes him a jaded individual after all.

Goals/Apirations: To catalog

Background/History: WIP (Too laaaaaazy right now)

Relationships: None.

Character Sheet

Character Name: Lorarin Tesdoya

Race/Species: Human

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Role:

Skills/Traits:

Sailing: Pressed at a young age Lorarin is no stranger to the tides. Comfortable in rigging and line, at bow or in the bilges there is no part of a ship at which he has not tried his hand.

Navigation: As a boy, before his obvious fasciation with the tall ships and those who rode them earned him a billet and a bunk, Lorarin had been apprenticed to a map maker. While cartography is by no means a perfect art- particularly as captains hoard their charts and peer review is unlikely- Lor has the happy talent to both read and recreate those maps that are so vital to travel. Comfortable with both sounding chart and sextant he is confident in his ability to plot an accurate course and does not fear the reef.

Astronomy: As with his talent with charts Lorarins ability to map the heavens began on land but was fostered on the waves. Able to spot those most vital points of light and fix them in his mind, Lor is comfortable using the heavenly bodies to pinpoint both his location and his course.

Swordcraft: Nothing in his short time on land prepared him for combat, but having spent years before the mast blades have become something of a fixture for him. Over the years he had learned from captains and corsairs alike, watching and practicing when time allowed. While no great fencer he can keep himself alive with sword or cutlass as needed, and is rarely without some small blade about his person.

Fiddler: Aboard ship boredom can be as lethal as any weapon. While no great singer Lorarin has over the years picked up some talent with the string and bow. On a paticularly interesting shore leave he 'found' himself in possession of a fine fiddle in a wooden case, and there is time and the weather cooperates he has been known to get the crew singing out on deck and rigging.

Weapons:
Smallsword
Dirk (often in boot or strapped to calf)

Physical Description: Years aboard various ships under an unforgiving sun have weathered Lorarin's features, burning once pallid skin to a leathery gold. He inherited his mother's pale almond shaped eyes, set beneath high brows the same reddish brown as his hair. The same hair that he keeps shorn tight to his scalp, a fashion adopted after a bout with fever at a young age and never set aside.

Like many sailors who began their careers young he is bandy legged, standing at a moderate five feet nine inches and carrying his weight well enough. His hands are stained at the fingers, the result of years working with pen and ink over hundreds of charts, and the tops of his little and ring finger were shorn off by a taut line while fighting a hurricane. The scars are old, puckered and white and make for a good story, but no longer cause pain.

Armor: Lorarin does not put his trust too heavily in armor, fr he has seen too many pieces lovingly bought that could not withstand the wind and waves. Instead he invested in a single piece of leather brigandine armor, designed to protect his chest and back, and a pair of studded arm bands that ride low on his wrists. For those voyages when the weather is foul he has a fearnought coat and sturdy boots.

Equipment/Other:
Sextant
Fiddle
Seaman's chest full of charts
Sundry items as a sailor collects over the years

Mental Description/Personality: As stable as an man can be who chooses to live his life with only a shell of wood betwixt himself and fathoms of water, Lorarin is a calm enough man on most day. He can be driven to passion or fits of rage, particularly in battle or conflict, and is as vulnerable to the doldrum depressions as any man. But literacy and his past roles as a navigator keep his mind busy enough, and he has escaped so far the sea madness that strike so many before the mast.

Goals/Apirations: A consumate sailor, Lorarin is a man whose greatest love truly is the ever changing tides. But his second greatest joy is discovery, and the documentation of the same. He ardently desires to chart the seas- and to earn a heavy pocket while he does so-, but with the freedom and camaraderie that more...structured vessels lack.

Background/History:

There is a town on the coast of Praeilor, its name of little use to any but those who lived there, that had ever made it's living on the sea. Lorarin was born outside its walls, the son of a stone mason with too many children and too few options. Had he not been a bright and inquisitive child who had- while helping his father during a Marketday journey- wandered into the map making guild and proceeded to ask every question that came to mind he might have ended up simply a labourer, or far worse. But he had been a precocious child, eager to learn, and so at the age of nine he had left home to be apprenticed to Halwin Ergiso, cartographer. It was interesting work, which taught him his letters and the shape of the world, but a young boy can grow bored behind a musty desk and endless charts.

And the sea lapping only a stone's throw away from the shop, had been a perfect distraction. Within the two years that he would stay Lorarin often found reason to sneak down to Ships row and watch the tide of people- of every color and shape and size imaginable- flood the streets. Often when a new ship came in he would scramble up any twer of crates that would hold him to get a better view. And it was there that the crew of the Caldera, who had lost their mizzen boy in a storm and needed someone to scramble up the ropes and fetch and carry for those that asked, had tempted him down with stories of adventure and then carted him aboard ship.

Not that he had ever much complained, even when all he knew had vanished over the horizon. It was the beginning of a long career, and he would grow first into a boy and then a man on many a bark. Those two years behind maps and charts, tracing the lines by which the world was bound and conquered had stuck with him, and as he grew older Lorarin has taken several voyages as a navigator or navigators mate. A great commodity- aside from those skills- are his ever present collection of maps and charts that he has either copied in secret or purchased over the years. Worth a small fortune on their own they are invaluable to any sea captain treading the unsettled waters.

Relationships:
Your character's thoughts on the other crew members. Fill this part out when I say, not before.

Character Name:
Amelia Garner

Race/Species:
Human

Gender:
Female

Age:
27

Role:

Skills/Traits:

• Athletic: Amelia has stamina and keep up with the best of them. She had to be fast when she was a thief
• Very Friendly: Unless heavily provoked, she can be a joy to be around
• Medicine: She can tend to wounds ranging from Knicks and cuts, to severe burns, gashes, and bullets
• She Won't Quit: Whether it's trying to save someone's life, or end it, she won't give up.
• Close Quarters Combat: Although she has a cutlass, she can inflict more damage up close with her Dirk's
• Refuses to Lie: Because of her childhood, she has sworn off being dishonest to anyone.

Weapons:

• Cutlass
• Dirk (4)

Physical Description:
Amelia stands at 5'6" and weighs 125 lbs. She has a slim, athletic build. Her face is soft and round, with a small sharp nose, full lips, and a sprinkle of freckles just under eyes and across her nose. Long dark lashes frame honey brown eyes, and dark auburn locks frame her face and fall down to her mid back. A scar runs from the corner of the right side of her mouth to her mid cheek, and another down her left temple. Amelia isnt busty, but not flat either. She has an apple shaped rear, and small feet.

She always wears a black piece of cloth thats twisted and goes around her forehead, down into her hair, and ties at the nape of her neck. A loose long sleeved blouse covers her arms and torso, with a brown  under the breast corset. Her pants are black and form fitting and she wears brown ankle length boots. Her cutlass hangs at her waist on the left side, as do 2 of her Dirk's. She also has one Dirk in each boot.

Armor:
None

Equipment/Other

• A coin that she has on her at all times

Mental Description/Personality:
Highly sociable. Amelia doesn't like to be the center of attention, but she doesn't like to be ignored either. She loves vulgar jokes, or hell, any jokes, and loves to laugh and let loose. She doesn't like confrontation, but that doesn't mean she'll let you walk all over her. Her fuse can be short sometimes, and she'll let you know when to leave her alone, lest you end up a pin cushion. Despite her short temper, she can also be extremely calm and collected when the need arises.

Goals/Apirations:
Well, simple. She wants to be a great doctor. To travel the world and help those in need. To learn more means of medicine and healing. Amelia may not take risks when it comes to those she cares for or her patients, but she doesnt give a second though about herself most times. Gaining some riches woukdnt be such a bad thing either.

Background/History:
The only thing she can really remember from her childhood, was that she grew up an orphan in the Andred Nation. She made her way from place to place, gang to gang as she grew. Some weren't so good, others were.

One of the good gangs she could remember, brought a smile to her face everytime she thought of them. They were the kind of kids that worked for their money. Singing, dancing, performing tricks, doing small odd jobs, playing an instrument. Amelia was one of the ones that would sing. She had friends and people that cared for her. And then one day she woke up, and wanted to get things easier. She didn't want to work for her earnings anymore.

Sometimes it took too long, and even then, they'd get so little. Other times they wouldnt get anything. Then, there were the times they would get enough for everyone to have a full belly that night. It was just never enough. Amelia went left them, telling them she was going to try to find a better way to earn money or good for the day. That night, she ran into the most memorable, dirty gang she had ever been in.

They were a gang of theives. Their leaders name, she'll never forget. Adam Jones. Amelia, being orphan with no money, and no friends, had to turn to stealing to stay alive. It was small things here and there. Things she never felt guilty about. Apples, bread, things of that nature. As they got older, they wanted bigger prizes. They started going after bigger things like wallets, or horses, jewelry. She drew the line. She didnt want to do it anymore. She didn't want to be like them anymore. Amelia tried to leave the gang and even went to the Law Keepers. They caught her before she could get to them and beat her, mutilated her face, and left her to die in the streets. She doesn't remember much after that, except a stranger that showed her some kindness, when there seemed to be no light at the end of her tunnel.

A man had found her, by the name of Henry Tate. Her bruises and bumps were gone, the cut on her temple had healed, but the one in her cheek was horribly infected. So much so, that she couldnt eat, even if she wanted to. He took her home and treated her wound. As she came to find out, he was a doctor. Another name she would never forget; Dr. Henry Tate. He gave her a place to stay, food to eat, clean water to drink, and even made sure she got an education. After that, she spent alot of time with him, especially when he was with patients. Minor things at first, then more severe, like broken bones and cuts. Later came gashes and bullet wounds. He taught her everything he knew. He even gave her his own lucky coin, as a gift when she completed her education and was ready to set out on her own.

After such a man showed her such kindness, she wanted to do better for herself and show the same kindness to others. So, she set out to become what had helped her in her darkest time of need. At first, she started in the city. It wasn't enough. She wanted to leave the city and venture out to other places. With that in mind, she set out, making her way closer to the ocean. If she wanted to venture out, she would have to find a ship that would take her, and a crew that would accept her for who she was now, rather than what she had been.

When she finally made it to the coast, she made her way to the city of SeaCliffe. There, she bought her Cutlass, and anything else she needed, including clothes and such. It was here she would wait for her chance to travel on and over the seas.

Relationships: