Member
Full Name: Caede
Nicknames/Aliases: The Dauntless Chelonite
Age: Somewhere in her mid to late twenties.
Gender: Female
Occupation: Monster-Hunter, sometime zailor.
Description: Caede, the Dauntless Chelonite, is a new figure in London, who rather stands out from the crowd. A native of the rotting carcass of a great zee creature, she comes from a place of rather differing values, and reflects it.
She’s tall, to the degree that it’s a little intimidating, near six and half foot high, with a build that suggests a lot of athletic activity. Her hair is a mop of wavy ginger fronds, still choked with salt, occasional bone beads and bits of shell braided in. She has a squarish face, marked with two white scars across her brow and cheek, and one on the bridge of her nose. For a chelonite, it could be considered pretty light scarring.
Quite notable about the woman are her eyes. The colour of them is something not quite natural. A blue so dark you’re not entirely sure how you know it’s even blue at all. They are peligin, the colour of the Unterzee, the colour that anyone’s eyes turn after they’ve eaten the raw flesh of the darkest zee creatures. It doesn’t appear to have had much of an effect on her otherwise...but it makes holding eye contact for a long time feel a little.. Disconcerting.
Her attire is practical, if a little outlandish. Her cropped trousers resemble something a little bit like sealskin...if seals grew patches of uneven scales amidst the fur. Her long jacket is made from the leather of something reddish and scarred, and bristly fur lines its collar. The boots most certainly came off a dead man at some point. A necklace of serrated teeth hands around her neck. Slung over one shoulder is a harpoon made of the bones of something big. Something with an anatomy that makes it quite difficult to determine what original purpose the bone served.
Personality: Caede is a rather brutish, unsophisticated individual... though if one can get past that, she's relatively easy to get along with. Well, as long as you never make any attempt to question her chelonite superiority as far as hunting goes. Questioning her bravery and savagery in the face of creatures of the zee is likely to provoke the kind of feral rage that makes people worry about drinking in the Chelonate.
Caede has a high opinion of her own skill, and that of her people, and won;t stand to see it demeaned.
Beyond that however, she's a pleasant enough companion. She has a strong sense of right and wrong, and tends to be driven by that sense over some desire for her own benefit.
Skills: - -Astonishingly handy with a harpoon.
-Bears a wealth of experience from a life lived out on the very edges of civilization, far from the reaches of London’s influence. As such, she is very difficult to rattle.
Weaknesses:
-Possibly not too discerning about where she uses the harpoon.
-Polite society of London doesn't look too kindly on the sorts of things that a chelonite like herself would consider perfectly normal. Adorning yourself with white clay and the teeth of sea creatures, habitually carrying around harpoons, eating raw meat and drinking fermented eel blood... holding bloody sacrificial rites in an attempt to placate Storm... the list goes on. None of these things really do a lot to win her friends.
Brief History: Caede was born and bred in the Chelonate, a settlement hollowed out into the corpse of an enormous zee turtle. The child of a well-known hunter… and a woman who was not native to the place. Some say she came from Irem, the city f the seven serpents. Regardless, she left for elsewhere when her daughter was still young, and disappeared off into the fog of the zee.
Growing up, learning to swim, hunt and fight, Caede didn't acutely feel such a loss. The Chelonate was a place of peril and shifting fortunes, to lose someone was not a great surprise, but her unusual parentage had netted a bit of attention.
At the age of twelve, one of the Bone Men, the priesthood of the corpse-island, told her that her destiny was, one day, to go to zee, like her mother. Caede took this seriously. It was one of the shouting holy men tht told her of it, though it was the woman herself who fulfilled it one day, when a passing trading vessel, having lost a number of its crew in a freak accident with a jllyfleur, started recruiting for able hands.
This began Caede's zailing career. What she lacked in experience she made up for in her ability to learn fast, her fearless attitude, and her apparent willingness to eat practically any creature hauled out of the zee.
Other: Is a worshipper of Storm, one of the gods of the zee. Will do her best to appease him with loud and bloody sacrifice (the only sort he's interested in.).
Nicknames/Aliases: The Dauntless Chelonite
Age: Somewhere in her mid to late twenties.
Gender: Female
Occupation: Monster-Hunter, sometime zailor.
Description: Caede, the Dauntless Chelonite, is a new figure in London, who rather stands out from the crowd. A native of the rotting carcass of a great zee creature, she comes from a place of rather differing values, and reflects it.
She’s tall, to the degree that it’s a little intimidating, near six and half foot high, with a build that suggests a lot of athletic activity. Her hair is a mop of wavy ginger fronds, still choked with salt, occasional bone beads and bits of shell braided in. She has a squarish face, marked with two white scars across her brow and cheek, and one on the bridge of her nose. For a chelonite, it could be considered pretty light scarring.
Quite notable about the woman are her eyes. The colour of them is something not quite natural. A blue so dark you’re not entirely sure how you know it’s even blue at all. They are peligin, the colour of the Unterzee, the colour that anyone’s eyes turn after they’ve eaten the raw flesh of the darkest zee creatures. It doesn’t appear to have had much of an effect on her otherwise...but it makes holding eye contact for a long time feel a little.. Disconcerting.
Her attire is practical, if a little outlandish. Her cropped trousers resemble something a little bit like sealskin...if seals grew patches of uneven scales amidst the fur. Her long jacket is made from the leather of something reddish and scarred, and bristly fur lines its collar. The boots most certainly came off a dead man at some point. A necklace of serrated teeth hands around her neck. Slung over one shoulder is a harpoon made of the bones of something big. Something with an anatomy that makes it quite difficult to determine what original purpose the bone served.
Personality: Caede is a rather brutish, unsophisticated individual... though if one can get past that, she's relatively easy to get along with. Well, as long as you never make any attempt to question her chelonite superiority as far as hunting goes. Questioning her bravery and savagery in the face of creatures of the zee is likely to provoke the kind of feral rage that makes people worry about drinking in the Chelonate.
Caede has a high opinion of her own skill, and that of her people, and won;t stand to see it demeaned.
Beyond that however, she's a pleasant enough companion. She has a strong sense of right and wrong, and tends to be driven by that sense over some desire for her own benefit.
Skills: - -Astonishingly handy with a harpoon.
-Bears a wealth of experience from a life lived out on the very edges of civilization, far from the reaches of London’s influence. As such, she is very difficult to rattle.
Weaknesses:
-Possibly not too discerning about where she uses the harpoon.
-Polite society of London doesn't look too kindly on the sorts of things that a chelonite like herself would consider perfectly normal. Adorning yourself with white clay and the teeth of sea creatures, habitually carrying around harpoons, eating raw meat and drinking fermented eel blood... holding bloody sacrificial rites in an attempt to placate Storm... the list goes on. None of these things really do a lot to win her friends.
Brief History: Caede was born and bred in the Chelonate, a settlement hollowed out into the corpse of an enormous zee turtle. The child of a well-known hunter… and a woman who was not native to the place. Some say she came from Irem, the city f the seven serpents. Regardless, she left for elsewhere when her daughter was still young, and disappeared off into the fog of the zee.
Growing up, learning to swim, hunt and fight, Caede didn't acutely feel such a loss. The Chelonate was a place of peril and shifting fortunes, to lose someone was not a great surprise, but her unusual parentage had netted a bit of attention.
At the age of twelve, one of the Bone Men, the priesthood of the corpse-island, told her that her destiny was, one day, to go to zee, like her mother. Caede took this seriously. It was one of the shouting holy men tht told her of it, though it was the woman herself who fulfilled it one day, when a passing trading vessel, having lost a number of its crew in a freak accident with a jllyfleur, started recruiting for able hands.
This began Caede's zailing career. What she lacked in experience she made up for in her ability to learn fast, her fearless attitude, and her apparent willingness to eat practically any creature hauled out of the zee.
Other: Is a worshipper of Storm, one of the gods of the zee. Will do her best to appease him with loud and bloody sacrifice (the only sort he's interested in.).
Full Name: ????
Nicknames/Aliases: The Furtive Technician,
Age: Appears in her late twenties, maybe early thirties.
Gender: Female
Occupation: A quick conversation would suggest that she was an individual with scientific and mechanical mind, the battered looking coat would suggest the uniform of the navy...though her generally worn out appearance would also hint to someone doing neither currently.
Description: The Furtive Technician stands at about 5'7, an angular-looking woman with long, blue-black hair. She has high, noticeable cheekbones and a naturally pale complexion. (Though that’s hardly strange in The Neath.)
She wears a long, rather battered looking coat that has something of the look admiralty about it. Much of her clothing does..though it seems like it has seen better days. In fact all of her looks a little bit dishevelled.
Apart from one thing. A pair of tinted glasses that obscure her eyes entirely from view. They’re a peculiar colour, almost purple in hue...is that irrigo?
Personality: The Furtive Technician can come across as a rather harsh and taciturn individual. She is more comfortable with objects than with people, and as such tends to relate to those around her in a way that’s more than a little unempathetic.
More than anything she’s clearly bothered by something. Nervous. Jumpy. Defensive. It’s quite clear she has something on her mind. Some kind of secret. Whether that’s a valuable one...or one better not passed on is anyone’s guess.
Skills: -Very high IQ and eidetic memory mean she has a great mind for facts and calculations.
Quick witted and fast on her feet.
-Appears to have a wealth of knowledge on scientific matters.
Weaknesses: - Appears to have nearly no wealth to her name whatsoever.
-Very touchy about anyone getting near her glasses.
-Doesn’t like anywhere too bright. Even a decent level of lamplight makes her notably uncomfortable.
-Might not actually be entirely sure what her name is.
Brief History: The Furtive Technician is newly disembarked from a tramp steamer into London, stopped briefly before heading further north toward Venderbight. They picked her up somewhere around the harbour at the Cumean Canal, though she doesn’t have the look of a surface-goer. She was very cagey about where she came from, paid her passage in small amount of glim, and avoided talking to anyone on the journey…. She also seemed to avoid sleeping and lamps of most kinds.
Upon arriving at Wolfstack a few days previous, the Technician disappeared into the crowds of the fifth city, and appears to have been loitering around since, looking tired and dishevelled, but also setting about with a sort of grim sense of purpose. What’s the Bottled Oblivion for?
Nicknames/Aliases: The Furtive Technician,
Age: Appears in her late twenties, maybe early thirties.
Gender: Female
Occupation: A quick conversation would suggest that she was an individual with scientific and mechanical mind, the battered looking coat would suggest the uniform of the navy...though her generally worn out appearance would also hint to someone doing neither currently.
Description: The Furtive Technician stands at about 5'7, an angular-looking woman with long, blue-black hair. She has high, noticeable cheekbones and a naturally pale complexion. (Though that’s hardly strange in The Neath.)
She wears a long, rather battered looking coat that has something of the look admiralty about it. Much of her clothing does..though it seems like it has seen better days. In fact all of her looks a little bit dishevelled.
Apart from one thing. A pair of tinted glasses that obscure her eyes entirely from view. They’re a peculiar colour, almost purple in hue...is that irrigo?
Personality: The Furtive Technician can come across as a rather harsh and taciturn individual. She is more comfortable with objects than with people, and as such tends to relate to those around her in a way that’s more than a little unempathetic.
More than anything she’s clearly bothered by something. Nervous. Jumpy. Defensive. It’s quite clear she has something on her mind. Some kind of secret. Whether that’s a valuable one...or one better not passed on is anyone’s guess.
Skills: -Very high IQ and eidetic memory mean she has a great mind for facts and calculations.
Quick witted and fast on her feet.
-Appears to have a wealth of knowledge on scientific matters.
Weaknesses: - Appears to have nearly no wealth to her name whatsoever.
-Very touchy about anyone getting near her glasses.
-Doesn’t like anywhere too bright. Even a decent level of lamplight makes her notably uncomfortable.
-Might not actually be entirely sure what her name is.
Brief History: The Furtive Technician is newly disembarked from a tramp steamer into London, stopped briefly before heading further north toward Venderbight. They picked her up somewhere around the harbour at the Cumean Canal, though she doesn’t have the look of a surface-goer. She was very cagey about where she came from, paid her passage in small amount of glim, and avoided talking to anyone on the journey…. She also seemed to avoid sleeping and lamps of most kinds.
Upon arriving at Wolfstack a few days previous, the Technician disappeared into the crowds of the fifth city, and appears to have been loitering around since, looking tired and dishevelled, but also setting about with a sort of grim sense of purpose. What’s the Bottled Oblivion for?
Full Name: Helena Alys Kingsley
Nicknames/Aliases: The Dreaming Benefactress
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Occupation:
Description: Helena is not a terribly imposing creature, topping out at out an unintimidating 5'2. Her build is slim, with light curves on the hips and chest rather than any defined muscle and her face is heart-shaped and girlish, with a set of wide, blue-grey eyes.She has a mop of untidy, red hair, which falls for her lower back. She has very pale skin that is quite prone to burning. She has a notable scar on the one side of her face, neck and shoulder.
People often pick Helena out on her somewhat..idiosyncratic sense of fashion. The colours she picks rarely seem to match...nor follow any kin of earthly logic.
Personality:Unorthodox would be the polite way to describe Hel....weird would be the less polite way. She appears a bit peculiar. Many say that Helena seems to live in a world of her own, and in a way that could be said to be true. Helena does not view the world like others do, and her reactions are often seen as inappropriate by those around her.
Her behaviour is often thought of as weird, though does seem to follow some sort of logic…in Helena’s mind at any rate…it just tends not to be a level of logic that anyone else has ever encountered before. While it might not initially be clear, she is painfully shy and awkward around people, mainly due to an acute awareness of how people view her. This tendency to assume others think the worst of her often makes her seem rather aloof. Getting past the initial strangeness of the young woman, she is a pleasant, highly intelligent individual. She appreciates the friendship of others, even if it’s not always openly visible, and is very dedicated to those that she is close to.
Skills: -Seems to have an uncanny ability to find things...whether she was looking for them or not.
-Surprisingly intelligent.
Weaknesses: -Few notable talents or applicable trade skills.
- Has a honey habit that's gotten more than a little out of control.
Brief History:
Helena Kingsley is an oddity. A frequent sight along Landybones Road, not without reason, this apparently well-to-do young woman could, poor dress-sense notwithstanding, be taken for the heiress of a decent family.
This is not the case.
Her surname is little more than a fabrication it seems. For Miss Kingsley was adopted, and not just adopted, adopted by a devil of the brass embassy.
The folk of Ladybones Road enjoy chattering and swapping rumours, and there were more than a few about how a devil came to adopt a child. Some claim he took charge of her in exchange for a mother's soul, others that she was the offspring of some elicit relationship between a devil and a woman (was that even possible?). Certainly anyone might give a slight variation on the story. Helena is probably one of the less likely ones to give an answer.
The devil, a high-ranking official in the Brass Embassy, was certainly sufficiently well-heeled to provide his charge with anything she desired. She had no need to take up trade or education, and her infernal association was just open enough that she was not often invited to society parties, so she found herself at a loose end much of the time. Eventually reading and painting gave way to exploring the city, which gave way to forays into the use of Prisoner's Honey, which in turn gave way to a honey addiction. As it stands at present, Helena spends much of her time (and the funds gifted to her by her benefactor), seeking and consuming the stuff. Eventually it's going to land her in some trouble. One way or another.
Nicknames/Aliases: The Dreaming Benefactress
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Occupation:
Description: Helena is not a terribly imposing creature, topping out at out an unintimidating 5'2. Her build is slim, with light curves on the hips and chest rather than any defined muscle and her face is heart-shaped and girlish, with a set of wide, blue-grey eyes.She has a mop of untidy, red hair, which falls for her lower back. She has very pale skin that is quite prone to burning. She has a notable scar on the one side of her face, neck and shoulder.
People often pick Helena out on her somewhat..idiosyncratic sense of fashion. The colours she picks rarely seem to match...nor follow any kin of earthly logic.
Personality:Unorthodox would be the polite way to describe Hel....weird would be the less polite way. She appears a bit peculiar. Many say that Helena seems to live in a world of her own, and in a way that could be said to be true. Helena does not view the world like others do, and her reactions are often seen as inappropriate by those around her.
Her behaviour is often thought of as weird, though does seem to follow some sort of logic…in Helena’s mind at any rate…it just tends not to be a level of logic that anyone else has ever encountered before. While it might not initially be clear, she is painfully shy and awkward around people, mainly due to an acute awareness of how people view her. This tendency to assume others think the worst of her often makes her seem rather aloof. Getting past the initial strangeness of the young woman, she is a pleasant, highly intelligent individual. She appreciates the friendship of others, even if it’s not always openly visible, and is very dedicated to those that she is close to.
Skills: -Seems to have an uncanny ability to find things...whether she was looking for them or not.
-Surprisingly intelligent.
Weaknesses: -Few notable talents or applicable trade skills.
- Has a honey habit that's gotten more than a little out of control.
Brief History:
Helena Kingsley is an oddity. A frequent sight along Landybones Road, not without reason, this apparently well-to-do young woman could, poor dress-sense notwithstanding, be taken for the heiress of a decent family.
This is not the case.
Her surname is little more than a fabrication it seems. For Miss Kingsley was adopted, and not just adopted, adopted by a devil of the brass embassy.
The folk of Ladybones Road enjoy chattering and swapping rumours, and there were more than a few about how a devil came to adopt a child. Some claim he took charge of her in exchange for a mother's soul, others that she was the offspring of some elicit relationship between a devil and a woman (was that even possible?). Certainly anyone might give a slight variation on the story. Helena is probably one of the less likely ones to give an answer.
The devil, a high-ranking official in the Brass Embassy, was certainly sufficiently well-heeled to provide his charge with anything she desired. She had no need to take up trade or education, and her infernal association was just open enough that she was not often invited to society parties, so she found herself at a loose end much of the time. Eventually reading and painting gave way to exploring the city, which gave way to forays into the use of Prisoner's Honey, which in turn gave way to a honey addiction. As it stands at present, Helena spends much of her time (and the funds gifted to her by her benefactor), seeking and consuming the stuff. Eventually it's going to land her in some trouble. One way or another.
