Brother Amerigo Spadoni
18 | Human | Male | 6'0 | 182lb Goal: Protecting his own. Here to retrieve a missing ship, the
Golden Gale, and her missing cargo, to assist in the development of diplomatic relationships with the most fruitful elements of this new political landscape, and perhaps most of all,
enjoy a nice vacation in this land a sea away from the Republic, partaking in its many delicious riches, its many eyebrow-raising intrigues, its many invigorating duels, and of course its many undiscovered adventures. All Brothers of the Bones are such Romantic Folk, you know?
History: A third son of some old military family, Amerigo was always the one amongst his brothers that showed the most potential as a man of the blade, focused, cunning, and revelrous most in crossing swords out of all the many foci that lay within an education by a family seeking greater standing, seeking long hours of study in all the details, footwork, rhythm, range, training, training, training. He grew to love swordsmanship as a painter loves staining a canvas, as both elegant art and brutal craft, and as third in line behind a pair of diligent and determined elder brothers, he couldn’t forsee suddenly having need for the many skills of managing an estate or coordinating troops and soirées and so on— they’d take him off the field anyway. As a result, he was largely left to what devices he was able, and soon found his exact wishes as a Brother of the Bones.
Four years on, he has clearly taken to the many means a Brother must learn like (pardoning the play on words in this) a fish to water, proving his skill and valor twice over with revelry in each dominant victory over the hapless pirates that thought to assault the ships he and his Brothers swore to guard. A swashbuckling breed of genteel, his experiences have left him colored unmistakably happier than he would have been should he ever had need to fill the role of one of his brothers. He looks forward to keep living well, even as he and his partner forge a path that will doubtless uncover all the hidden treasures in this recently tilled land across the sea.
Seed: Che cosa?Magic: No, gross. That’s Dremora stuff. Sharp blades, sharp eyes, and sharp wits will more than do.Skills: Swordsmanship, Pankration, Sailing, Riding, Dancing, appreciating fine food, fine wine, and refined ladies, speaking with charmingly glib and flowered cadence (and an ear for accents typically used for comedy), metallurgy (so much as it pertains to judging and maintaining quality weaponry, at least), examining the structure of something and how he might break it, testing the limits of his ability, always with intent to exceed.
Faction: Not a leader by any means, but a well-ingrained Brother of the Bones of the Sea of at least four years. The Brothers are the Republic’s answer to the old knightly warrior caste, men hailing from old bellicose bloodlines and charged with the protection of ships and sailors as they ferry across the treacherous high seas, drawing their coral blades to cut down buccaneers, monsters from the deep and from lands abroad, and if you give a credulous ear to even half of their bravado— the mighty gales themselves. The Coral at their hip is the eponymous Bones of the Sea, gathered ashore by the Keeper of Light and known to protect the sworn brothers from all manner of arcane ills— but they must honor their bond with the Bones by staying in sight of the ocean, lest their blades grow heavy and wild.
City: The most illustrious Republic would keep us here all night if we spoke of its many bounties. It matters less than the breath it would demand, as we are far from home.Assets: The weight of diplomatic immunity, although his presence shows how much that’s believed to go for in the tumult between landed old nobility and power-hungry new management. Beyond that, a vicious Bilbao forged from the Bones is ever present at this brother’s hip, exquisite for the cut and thrust, and ideally a small vial of captured seawater sits within the splendid crystal pendant on his person— a last resort for a last resort, as he would ideally be never so inland as to need it, and if he did need it he would have a more substantial volume somewhere upon him.