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Emory Alderich

The Enochian Gunner of the Wayfarer

0 · 365 views · located in Terreth

a character in “The Wayfarer: Amongst Skies”, as played by Torrentwolf

Description

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Emory Alderich
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[Gunner]
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Image

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Personal Information
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Full Name: Emory Alderich

Description: Emory is a tall person at 6”2, a little bit taller than his race normal is, so his height is a rare trait . His hair is jet black and naturally long which he keeps tied in a ponytail and he sports a full close shaved beard. He has a statuesque like build with handsome features and a well built body from years of physical training. His eyes typically are a dark brown that can be mistaken for black but under the right conditions they will turn a deep blue when casting magic.

Age: 67 but looks 24.

Gender: Male

Race/Main: Enochian

Race/Sub: None

Honorifics|Titles|Nicknames: The Magic Gunman, Grand Master of the Mooncrest Clan.

Sexual Orientation:Heterosexual

Birthplace: Cresenhold in the Sovereign Islands of Amira near the capitol of Valasie.

Marking|Tattoos|Piercings: Emory has a set of Enochian glowing symbols on the back of his hands which only appear when he casts his magic.

Height: 6”2

Weight 180 pounds.

Physical Condition: For his people’s age he is still quite young in comparison and is still in his prime.

Former Residence: Valasie, capitol of the Sovereign Islands of Amira.

Family/Relatives: Emory’s true family unknown, while the man he thought was his father was revealed to be the man who killed them.

Friends/Comrades: Enochians

Enemies: The Sisters of Dorn, Some Enochians (Complicated), the Ascended

Rivals: Sister Elenora

Organizations/Tribes/Clans: Mooncrest Clan,

Former Affiliations: Formerly the Elite Hand of the Order of Dorn and the head inquisitor/crowned prince to the Royal Court of Valasie.

Disabilities: Being Enochian, Emory has a bad opinion of the Order of Dorn and such does not hesitate to speak badly of them, something that gets him in a lot trouble. Emory is troubled by occasional nightmares of the Enochians he has killed. He also has a fear of the Leviathans, creatures said to be but myths, or are they?


Personality:Emory is typically calm and cool, with a neutral expression on his face. Do not mistaken this for being a cold and distance, give him reason and he’ll interact normally with others outside of Enochians. Given this calm mindset, Emory typically handles situations with a casual, nonchalant attitude, though this is more a part of his personality than arrogant bravado. He can also be a bit playful when fighting, taunting his opponent with witty remarks and keeping a cocky smile on his face and playful tone in his voice. One might assume he enjoys a battle and when people catch him in the mood to talk about himself, he admits he does. Though he typically does not give in to bouts of anger when Emory is roused he is much more prone to dealing with the source of his rage in a more brutal manner.

Emory gives off a mysterious air about him no matter what demeanor he has at the time. This is the first thing people typically notice about him when they see him. His Enochian heritage and it’s connection to the spiritual magic tends to create this mysterious aura and yet does not give any suspicion to his true heritage. Despite being their enemy for so long Emory has a deep love for his race and more so for his Clan, despite never knowing them before they were destroyed. He doesn’t remembered his family but he can feel a deep connection to them even beyond the grave. Yet despite his change of allegiance in light of the lies he had been told some Enochians treat him with suspicion and distrust, expecting him to betray them. Emory has spent years mending these ties with his race and still has some way to go. More so, Emory is determined to restore his clan back to life and is pursuing this mission with determination.

Socially Emory used to be quite social despite hating the nobles of court. Now he has more connection to the commoner than nobles or the upperclass. Though he is capable of acting like a pure stuck up snob as he calls them, he much prefers to define himself as the man he wants to be and not what society thinks he should.Emory treats women with the respect they deserve and considers them equals and not below him. Emory also has a fondness for children and will gladly interact with them regardless of his mood. He has a desire to have children of his own one day but only with the right woman who will accept him for who he is and what will come with being part of his clan.

Likes:
-Enochian Culture,
-Spicy foods
- Enochian Weapons
- The moon,
-“Moonshine”
-Children

Dislikes:
-Talking about his past
-Being called a Black Witch (Derogatory word),
-Bitter foods
-Anyone associated with the Order of Dorn
-Persecution of Enochians
-People going into his room without permission


Psychological Condition: Normally fine but can become depressed when remembering the number of his brother and sister Enochians he unjustly killed. And whatever you do, don’t call him any derogatory Enochian names.

Alignment: Chaotic Good



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Equipment
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:Attire:Emory typically wears a black and royal blue tunic and trousers. He typically wears a black long coat with a hood and face cover to conceal his face when he needs to. He wears a cross bandolier which also hooks to his belt more for aesthetic purposes but it can hold tools and weapons when needed. His boots are also specially designed to fit two pistols although not just for carrying purposes.


:Protection: Emory doesn’t rely on armor to protect him and instead is trained to his enhanced speed, agility and acrobatics to dodge attacks.


Weapon(s):Emory doesn’t use anything but Enochian weapons. He has used and given away many over his time but one he always have is a set of four pistols called Ties that Bind. Each pistol; Mind, Spirit, Soul and Heart, are crafted by Emory. They are blue flintlock pistols with Enochian symbols carved all over. They also have Enochian charms that rapidly reload the pistols for rapid bullet fire.


:Accessories/Misc:On himself Emory carries a amulet with a Great Sapphire in the center, a relic of the Mooncrest Clan. On the Ship he has a quite a few books of Enochian origins and an alchemy set, though he doesn’t dabble so much in that area as of yet besides making healing items and a special drink he makes. He does have a few tools for repairing and making new guns for the crew, but doesn’t make any weapons for himself unless he has the Enochian blueprints for what he desires.


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|Abilities|Traits|Racial|
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Skills: Emory is a battlemaster Enochian, as such any Enochian weapon in existence, from blades to guns he is proficient in. Emory is capable of using the canons of ships to a great deal of skill, but his aim is not as perfect with the ship’s cannons as it is with his guns, most likely steaming from them not being of Enochian design. Emory is trained in the Enochian battle art Bullet Soul, where Emory uses his full body and all four pistols to devastating effect, kicking, punching and shooting with hands, feet and pistols to hurt or kill his opponent(s). Emory’s upbringing affords him a gentleman’s education and he knows the how to act like one of the snobs as he calls them.

Abilities: As an Enochian Emory has a connection with Spirit and Lunar magic, though his upbringing does not afford him the more advance arts, but what he has studied he is a master of. He is able fire his guns remotely which is a core technique in the Bullet Soul art he is proficient in. Emory is capable of levitating himself and one other but no higher than ten feet. When the Moon is visible Emory is able to call upon it’s magic to walk on any surface. One technique he is capable of is calling forth avatars of the Lunar Beasts to battle for him, though he can’t move very much while they are in effect. Typically this means using his body in a dancing like ritual to call them while speaking the incantation.


Race: The origins of Enochians are shrouded in a veil of secrecy that only they know the truth of, as is much of their culture. What is known is they have no one homeland the public know of but, it is said they originated from an island called Umbra Island, a place only they know the true location of. Instead they live all over the known world in clans, each with it’s own regulations and procedures but all adhering the Prime Laws and the Elder One.

Enochians are known to live quite a long time, able to live up to four hundred years of age and very rarely to six hundred years of age. Strangely, their biology has a dominant gene, meaning if an Enochian has a child with any other compatible race the child will be born purely Enochian. Due to their magical heritage Enochians are naturally stronger, faster and more agile than normal beings.

Enochians are the most proficient beings in the world with Spirit and Lunar magic and have developed many advances in the arts. They are also the most proficient alchemists, having developed many of the world's potions and remedies with some elixirs being kept secret. But do not mistaken their academic success for weakness, they are among the most fierce warriors in the world, having developed deadly combat arts that make one Enochian a force to reckon with.

Enochian’s typically do not trust outsiders unless they are close friends or marry into the clan. Even then they may welcome the newcomer to the clan and treat them as one of their own but they will typically keep an eye on them for a while until they feel they are trustworthy. Because of the secrecy, they are often the focus of much ridicule and suspicion. As such many nations condone the hunting of Enochians and have forced those living in such nation into even deeper hiding. One of the enemies of the Enochians is a religious order called the Order of Dorn, a religion that worships the three Prime Gods of creation and the five Minor Gods of Order. The Order of Dorn and their subfactions believe the Enochian to be heretics and champions the cause of wiping them out. Enochian are also the enemies of the Ascended, a race of angel like beings who see Enochains as inferior pests that must be wiped out. They also do not have such a great relationship with elves, who scorn them for their practices of making pacts with just about any spirit creature, even with some of the unsavory ones.



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Current History
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Emory was recently recruited onto the Wayfarer in the most strangest of ways, during a bar fight. It was a typical day in the tavern and of course there were plenty of drunk sailors. One comment lead to another and next thing you know the bar was in an uproar. Emory just so happened to be in the wrong place at the right time and used his Enochian Bullet Soul skills with his pistols to put an end to the fight, displaying a very high skill of precision which caught the eye of Captain Caintry. After a few drinks and a job offer later Emory was hired onto the Wayfarer as the ship's Gunner. Though don’t tell the captain he’s not as good a shot with the ships guns.

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Past History
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Emory doesn’t know much about where he was born. But he knows the life he grew up in was as the royal prince of Sovereign Islands of Amira. Emory’s father Veris Tydor, the king of the Valasie and the Empire, unlike other kings spent an unusual amount of time with his young son but Emory didn’t complain. But over time he began delegating time for trainers and teachers in his place and spent less time with his son. As the rigorous training increased Emory didn’t have much time to complained as he was put through hours of schooling and harsh physical training. Eventually he was introduced to the Sisters of Dorn, a subfaction of the Order of Dorn which operated in the Islands of Amira. It was then Veris told his son why he had been put through such rough training and education. It was to see if he was indeed gifted as Veris suspected and Emory most definitely was. They told him he had a power much different from others and as a human his ability to harness this power was unusual. They told him the only others able to do this were evil beings called Enochians, wicked witches who used their powers for evil. It was then they told him he was to be the weapon to bring peace to the lands and beyond by hunting down and eliminating these beings. Emory understood and at the age of ten, Emory was taken by the Sisters of Dorn to train and harness his powers for the next eight years.

The training was hard and mastering his skills even harder but Emory managed. He was able to tap into skills only an Enochian could and while they didn’t have much to teach him about Enochians what he did learn he mastered very quickly. In fact he completed his training much sooner than expected and by sixteen he was sent out to test his skills against their foes. By now what the Sisters and his Father had told him Emory held no remorse killing his first set of Enochians with prejudice and great efficiency. Seeing he was ready the Sisters of Dorn made him the Elite Hand of the order, much to Sister Elenora’s chagrin and his father made him the head Inquisitor of the Kingdom. For ten years Emory hunted down and killed or captured many Enochians, all while remaining loyal to his father and the cause. But then one day it all changed. During a raid Emory captured a female Enochian, whom he presented to his father to execute as he saw fit. But as she spoke her vile words to Veris the truth was revealed, mory was an Enochian. At first Emory vehemently refused to believe her but as she continued to speak she gave him answers to things that didn’t make sense until now. She even told him his father had killed his family and Clan, known as the Mooncrest clan, and claimed Emory as his own to be used as a weapon against them.

It was then Emory turned to his “father” and demanded to know if it was true. When he tried to dismiss it Emory threatened to end him if he didn’t answer. Veris was forced to confirm the truth and said it did not change a thing. He then told Emory to execute the Enochian Female and let things return to normal. Conflicted Emory took his pistol, a replica of Enochian pistols made by the Sisters, and turned them upon the Enochian. Emory hesitated and then after being told to finish the job he fired. The bullet broke the Enochian’s bonds and after tossing her his spare pistols the two fought their way out of the palace and escaped, with Emory now embracing his heritage and becoming an enemy of the people he was deceived into serving. For five years after Emory fought against the Sovereign Islands of Amira and the Order of Dorn. It took a while to gain their trust after so long of hunting them but Emory was able to return to his rightful people and use what he know about the inner workings of the Order and his father to help them fight back. At the end Emory lead the strike against the capitol of Valasie and helped trap and bring justice for the many lives he took. With the Empire in anarchy and the Sisters of Dorn disarray, the Enochains of the Islands of Amira could breath a sigh of relief. Emory on the other hand couldn't’ stay, as he was now a wanted man within the empire and so left. Over the years he traveled, gathering what knowledge he could about his culture and lending his skills to the right people.

Emory has yet to settle down but one day he will rebuild his clan and hopefully live out his life with his clan in peace.



©2011 Wolven[OC] (BBC Coding/Design) - Roleplay Gateway. All Rights Reserved

So begins...

Emory Alderich's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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#, as written by Mr.Sol
Varsh was in the middle of a long series of stretches, unwinding his muscles from the brief skirmish yesterday. As he stretched, tired muscles groaning in pain, he reflected. He thought back to the fight yesterday, fighting a species he had never fought before. Air snakes of all things. They had caught him unawares, and in the heat of battle he had realized his sword was too large for these small beings. So he preceded with bare hands, giving his war cry, a gutteral shout that would have sent odd little shivers down the backs of his crewmates and gathering the attention of the snakes. With odd little hisses and shrieks they all swept towards him, with little gouts of flame lancing towards Varsh, singing his cotton shirt and burning his arm slightly, both of which he ignored with extreme disdain, but the pain did activate the first round of adrenal glands, causing his muscles to swell, and his pupils grow wider. With a deathshead grin he grabbed a pair of snakes and bashed their heads together, scattering brains and blood everywhere, and then went for more to grab. While in his mask of rage, he barely noticed the crew doing their best and accounting for sky snakes right along with him.

Varsh was going deeper into the reflection when his Captain’s voice interrupted him. Ending the stretch immediately, he stood to his full height and strode out the door of his cabin, clad only in pants and leather vest. His shirts were cleaning. This put on display his powerful physique, and also the burns and scratches that covered his arms and shoulders, most still an angry red, the scratches not even attempted at being covered. His hair was bound back in a warrior’s knot. As he strode to the quarterdeck he began barking in a loud and powerful voice “All hands report to the captain’s cabin! All officers to the quarterdeck! Time now!” After yelling his orders he moved up to the quarterdeck to observe the rest of the crew as they assembled.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Loud banging rattled the ancient wooden walls of the Healer's Quarters. Needless to say, Eire wasn't having the best day. Most of the crew would agree their night wasn't all fun and games, but no one, no one, loved sleep the way the young Arcadian did. The woman paced her medium-sized room that doubled as the sick bay for the crew, slamming cabinets open and closed again after grabbing various supplies for the crew. She stomped her feet [a habit she'd picked up from the flightless races] as she walked from one side to the other, but her light weight didn't give it the same satisfying THUD.

To make things worse, she'd been up all night preparing things for people who never showed. Feeling useless as well as tired, Eire sat twiddling her thumbs after healing her own wounds. Well, she actually spent her time whipping up a new pain elixir she'd been working on, but she felt as though her time was wasted nonetheless. Perhaps she should have been used to the members of her crew tending to lick their minor wounds in private by now. Eire couldn't help the disappointment that burned in her stomach, sometimes a girl wants to heal a nicely scrapped knee or a little snake bite. Healing only life threatening situations tends to get boring. Eire took a deep breath and settled her annoyance. Despite her feelings, she was happy that no one on the crew was grievously injured. To lose someone after the long months abroad would be even more disappointing.

With a resigned sigh, the cherub slumped down on her bed next to an open porthole and felt a chilly morning breeze roll in. Just as she got comfortable, the telltale crackle of an announcement filled the quieted room, "All hands on deck. All hands on deck for voting. Let me see here… oh yes, navigator, advisor, first mate, and sergeant needs to be posted on the quarterdeck, all others in front of the Captain’s cabin. That is all." It hadn't taken long for the healer to pick up the skills to decipher announcements made on the speakers, though she did suspect hers was one of the best behaved.

"Of course!" Eire called as she jumped back to her feet in one swift motion. She ambled to the door, swiping the elixir from her desk as she passed in case anyone had wounded more than their pride. With a flick of her wrist, magic flipped her 'DOCTOR IS IN' sign to the otherside. It now read: 'DOCTOR IS OUT; OF HER MIND'. She'd made it herself in a language only spoken in Arcadia, and as far as the crew could tell the sign only translates to the first half of the statement.

Though she wasn't in a hurry, Eire caught up to the growing party of her mates that had already arrived at the Captain's Cabin. Minutes after arriving, thought it felt like hours to the cherub, she was already bored. More than anything, she hated to be kept waiting. Sure, the officers likely had something important to discuss, but that didn't make it less boring. To find something to entertain herself with, she examined the crew. The minute her eye caught the first burn hole, her eyes flew to her own blouse. Directly to a rather large hole with singed edges just above her navel. Cursing aloud, she vowed then and there to use those foul beasts in her soul-sucking research should she ever see one again. This day couldn't get worse.

The Cannoneer's unique scent arrived long before he did. He trundled up the stairs with Carina in tow. The poor girl was hobbling in a fashion the healer had only seen in the extremely old or the extremely sick. Again, the Arcadian's temper flared a bit, but was quickly squashed by a more overwhelming wave of professionalism. As Shenk and the navigator joined the crowd, The healer eyed the red potion in the woman's hand. Scoffing inwardly at the painkiller, Eire offered the blue elixir to the Navigator and called, "You're going to be late at that pace; not even a quarter to the way of the quarterdeck." She laughed shortly at her own joke before adding, "Perhaps you should take this instead and stop by my Quarters after the vote. Please note should anything unusual occur. I hope it helps."

After sending Carina a hopeful smile, it didn't take Eire long to regain her previous boredom. Turning to Shenk she joked,"So. You're cheating on me with painkillers, eh?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Damascus coolly watched the crew as they fidgeted around waiting for the, remarkably late captain from his position leaning against a stack of crates behind the assembled members. The orb under the bandanna twitched as he decided to open its eye briefly to get a, new perspective on the crew. Barely visible under the bandanna a faint purple glow began to emanate as the orb fired to daemonic life. Filtering into his reduced field of vision came faint purple aetheric traces lacing the sky, following the ebb and flow of magic that was helping to keep the tub afloat, as well as the traces of the magically inclined of the crew.

Scattered throughout the assembled members of the crew were pinpricks and traces of magical energy. Some was retained in weapons, some from hands, eyes, whatever the foci of their craft he saw the traces of it. He noticed that in many of them the traces were much fainter, weaker than they were when he had first observed them as such. He could attribute this to the recent battle, and the general tiredness of the crew. One of the crew caught his attention by virtue of simple the amount of concentrated energy in one area. The young Cabin Girl, what was her name, Bobby? No matter, but the arm under the long glove was simply buzzing with purple aetheric traces. It had him curious as to why the arm was so imbued, but it wasn't his place to ask.

His thoughts, and indeed concentration, were interrupted by the, by court standards, quite grand entrance. The captain strode powerfully through his hirelings, nodding and interacting with those he seemed to know for either longer, or better than the rest. He was a good man, seemed personable, seemed to care for his crew. He'd known another captain of the same such vein. His left hand concealed under the cloak curled reflexively around the pommel of Lizbet, caressing its smooth cold metal with the care and grace one might treat a lover. Or a memory.

His thoughts were once more interrupted by the captain, this time by his words. Damascus wasn't going to lie, he'd expected this sort of filibuster from the captain before he'd opened his mouth. And Filibuster was all it was, something he was quite used to. His time in high court had been populated with such measures and he was proud to say he was one of the best at it. He didn't particularly enjoy it, he would rather say just what he needed to, but he was exceptionally talented at the intricacies of court and public and private conversation. While the Captain was certainly good at it, Damascus couldn't help but call it what it was, filibuster to appease a tired crew and build up to what the actual point was.

Your eyes. Yes, you heard it right, I brought you on my ship based on what I saw in each of your eyes. This is not some poetic jab at the cliche “something greater within”. Within your eyes, I saw a mixture of… authenticity. I saw a story.

Damascus couldn't help but scoff audibly at the man. Only having one eye, Damascus sincerely doubted that the captain had seen anything in his eye. None on board had seen beneath the bandanna, none on board had witnessed his shame, none of them could possibly have seen his story. He did not doubt that the captain had seen something in him, but he preferred to think what he saw was what Damascus had wanted him to see, a quick wit and a quicker blade.

This man must have been the son of a senator, Damascus thought as he listened to Caintry rattle on. He was almost proud of the man, almost wanted to see how he'd hold up in a noble court. But eventually the man got to the point and laid their options out of the proverbial table. Perodo, Paradiso, or Parada, a triple threat of P's. Privacy, piracy, or primeval it was a tough choice. He could see the merits of any of the places laid out before them. Though he had no intention of visiting another possibly abandoned settlement. Too much risk for repeated history.

"The way I see it is as such ladies and gentlemen," Damascus began pushing his shoulder off of the crates. Standing straight he ran a hand through his hair, setting it back away from his eye. "Each of these places holds... unique opportunities, as well as dangers. On the one hand we have Paradiso, a notorious hive of sin and villainy. Just the sort of place that any of us could lose ourselves in and rest reasonably undisturbed for a time. While there restock, rearm, refuel, and relapse into our.. finer habits," he said with a devilish grin. He began to pace behind the crew, much like a lawyer would making his closing arguments, every movement calculated for maximum effect, his cape billowing and swirling about his feet in a theatrical way. The captain wasn't the only one with a flair for the dramatic.

"On the back edge of that sword, it is a hive of sin and villainy. There are plenty of opportunities to find oneself in how shall we say, in a pit of trouble. Bounty hunters, assassins, high port taxes, truly dreadful stuff that." He paused to gauge reaction. "Now on the other hand we have Perodo, the silent settlement. If there are people still there wonderful, locals to trade with that have had no recent communication with the outside so we're likely to not be... ratted out. And if they're dead, unfortunate as that is, as Mr. Lutz so bluntly mentioned, looting is an option," he noted with a head nod and gesture to the man in question. "Again, on the other side of the coin, if they're alive and have been silent, there must be a reason. Perhaps a reason more sinister than we could imagine," he paused for a fraction of a second, memories tied to the statement flashing through his mind. Recovering almost immediately he continued. "Sickness, cultish behavior, pirate slaughter, daemons, it could be any number of things. We could be walking into as much of a trap there as we could be in Paradiso."

He paused and turned to face the crew. "Now Parada, not much to be said there, its a jungle plain and simple. And in the jungle, well we all know the dangers and rewards of such places do we not," he stated with a grin and sweeping gesture. "So here we stand, a choice of Privacy, Piracy, and Primeval, each could be as rewarding and treacherous as the last. I for one prefer the comforts of civilization, so my hand is cast for Paradiso. At the very least there we can be assured a warm bed, cold drink, and if so inclined welcome company."

Having said his piece he took a single step back to his stack of crates and resumed leaning against it. The habits of a noble and the court duties that go with it die hard. He was simply glad to see that the recent gauntlet of tribulation hadn't dulled his tongue any. Whatever the crew decided on, he would abide by, but he had a yearning to see the lights of civilization once more from the comfort of a glass of brandy, a comfortable bed, and a warm companion.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Practically the entire crew had gathered at the behest of their captain, but the man himself was nowhere to be found. Big surprise there. Nadia let out another frustrated sigh, drumming against the wall with the fingers of one hand, this did little for her ill temper brought on by lack of sleep. The gunner perked up a little when she noticed the ship's cook approaching, however, and acknowledged her presence with a nod and a slight smile. She had gotten along fairly well with Jia since their new recruit's induction on the Wayfarer.

"Yeah. Rough day, too. Cleaning burn marks and sky-serpent guts isn't my idea of fun," replied Nadia wryly. Just then, the sound of the door to the captain's cabin opening caught her attention. Here he was at last. It felt like the crew had been waiting far longer than necessary for him to show his face. She quickly stopped leaning against the wall to make herself appear at least mildly presentable, then turned her gaze to the deck in embarrassment when Captain Caintry brought up the speaker she had previously wrecked. "No, Cap'n," she mumbled. The last thing she wanted was to have that brought up again, in front of the whole crew.

When the captain began his speech, Nadia mostly tuned out at first, expecting the same old sort of introductory spiel from her military days. But then came the odd part, the bit that got her attention, or at least her curiosity. Captain Caintry had picked the crew for their... stories? Did he intend to write about them in his memoires or something? Looking to the collection of misfits she would be calling her crewmates, the gunner almost missed out on what their leader had to say next. The reason why he had called them all here: to vote on their next destination. A pirate den, a wild jungle, or a ghost town? Decisions, decisions. Nadia listened carefully as some of the crew members cast their votes before deciding to make her voice heard.

"I don't see us getting restocked on a wildland, so it's a toss-up between Perodo and Paradiso, from the look of it," she said. "And if we dock at Perodo, we may end up running into what made the place a ghost town in the first place. At least we know where we are with cutthroats. Just keep our big 'uns in plain sight and we'll only have the idiots trying to mug us. My vote's for Paradiso."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Uriel Rozinan Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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Eire had remained silent for a good portion of the voting, only piping up after Varsh to add, "I've got 10 blades to cut through illness right here!" She raised both hands and wiggled her fingers in a magical manner for effect. Usually, she'd have added an eyeroll at how pretentiously Varsh was speaking, but that just seemed to be how he was. He always seemed to be ready to fight whomever dared to contradict him, so of course Eire had to.

Truth be told, Eire couldn't care less where their adventures took them. As long as it was somewhere new, she'd be happy. However, she was still feeling a bit under utilized and was eager to remind people that she did actually have the ability to take away their aches and pains they all seem to grumble about constantly. Sure, she could just do it, but she preferred consent. Magically healing someone is a very intimate process, and it made Eire feel much less skeevy when the other party agreed to it.

In any case, the healer was eager to get underway to wherever as long as it had food and a nice place to take a nap.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus Vieri Character Portrait: Damascus L. Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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“Good morning.” Lady Mercy greeted, her tone as cool as usual. Robyn couldn't help a small grin but it faded when she realized that Lady Mercy didn't smile. She wasn't so easily amused. “I expect we’ll be finding out soon.” She went on answering her question and then went on to -seemingly- appraise the others that arrived. Robyn straightened her back, taking on the same posture and stern expression as Lady Mercy.

Shortly after, The Captain made his appearance, greeting each one of them accordingly. To her, he hooked a finger, closed an eye, and gave a wild "Argh" out of nowhere, startling Robyn a bit. She blinked and fought the urge to laugh. What the hell was that all about?

Soon the briefing began.
"A nice morn, I hope all slept well. You all look, well… terrible. He said and Robyn scrunched up her nose.

Rude, she thought as he went on.

“For many of you, this will be your first job done as a crewmember of the Wayfarer, and I assure you none of you know what to expect. A long time ago, I first came into contact with this beauty of a vessel in a rather special way. The Wayfarer was neither the first airship I found myself working for or the best equipped, but she has always been my favorite and the only one I actively tried to work for. Why? Story. She was the most interesting, simply. My old Captain brought me on as the ship’s scout, thief, cheater, or whatever you wanted to call me, and why did my glorious, honorable captain pick me? I was the best, and I was the most qualified in that degree of expertise. Obviously, I did not stay in that position, I am now standing above you on the quarterdeck. So, that leaves the question: why did I bring you on? Surely, in line with the practices of my good Captain, I would carefully choose only the best for the job, the role, when selecting who is privileged enough to be a member of my crew. Well, no, not even close. Some of you, I wonder, probably never did the job you agreed to do before coming aboard. Most of you would not ever in your right mind agree to come aboard this airship, as well as no Captain in their right mind would ever hire you. Some of you had no choice but to come along, helping more than one of you escape your respective authorities, and some of you would have joined any airship. So, again, why did I choose you?

Your eyes.

Yes, you heard it right, I brought you on my ship based on what I saw in each of your eyes. This is not some poetic jab at the cliche “something greater within”. Within your eyes, I saw a mixture of… authenticity. I saw a story. I could not know whether you would serve faithfully and turn out actually suited for the job, such as when I took Varsh on as muscle, eventually being promoted, or stab me in the back and attempt to burn my ship down, literally in some cases in the past, but neither would I care. In short, you are not the most suited, but the most interesting for your respective jobs. You are, each and every one of you, fantastic stories.”
He said and Robyn was sent back to the day she met Master Jacken. He told her the same thing...there was something in her eyes. To his credit, he'd sifted through her mind telepathically but it started with her eyes. That's what he explained to her.

To hear that again, from someone who'd never met Master Jacken and never will, made her want to see what they saw. The Captain saw a story.
She reached up, gripping her shoulder on her 'good' arm. Oh, she had quite the story, Master Jacken saw a kindred spirit. She made a note to pay attention to people's eyes. Apparently, they told quite a lot.

“For many of you, this will be your first job done as a crewmember of the Wayfarer,” he continued with a grin. “and although we are not heading into any of three islands with any certainty about anything, you can depend on the fact that we will find trouble, mischief, and something to preoccupy ourselves anywhere. That, my dear…” He paused causing Robyn to narrow her eyes some. “That, my dear crew, leaves us with our choices and your voting. You have had it rough enough lately, so I will let you decide where to dock. Well, I will let you vote on where to dock, and as long as your choice doesn’t sound absolutely dreadful that is where we will go… Well… Forget what I said, just vote on where to go.

Anyways, your choices are between Paradiso the pirate den, Parada the unexplored jungle-rock, or Perodo the peaceful colony that is probably dead. There is a possibility everyone is sleeping I suppose, but unlikely. Now, I cannot tell you anything about Parada or Perodo, you know as much as I do, but I have been to Paradiso, so I might be able to answer some questions. However, I would really prefer not to.

You may give a short speech before your vote explaining your position, but all that is needed is a simple naming of the island."
He said and Robyn already had her vote. One they needed supplies, she -as in her and Killin- needed more parts of the ship as well as a few new tools but Robyn also really wanted to see this pirate sky dock. She wanted to go to Paradiso.
Robyn rose her hand but then the others spoke before her and she dropped her hand. Did she even get a vote?

"Paradiso," Lady Mercy said, shocking Robyn into whipping her head in her direction. "We need provisions, do we not?" the white-haired woman went on to say and Robyn was shocked. She thought the same thing she did.
Inwardly, Robyn was cheering, having found something, however small, in common with the otherwise enigmatic woman. Robyn dropped her head to hid her grin, hoping that Lady Mercy did not see her gawking and smiling like an idiot.

The others went on to explain where they wanted to go and finally Robyn rose her hand again.

"Ah, Well, I don't know if I count as crew or if my vote even counts but I want to go to" She paused, her eyes flicking over to Lady Mercy before she continued. "We should to Paradiso, we need supplies in the Engine Room, new parts and such, I figure that's the best place to find something good." She said, not really that great at explaining herself as it was, so it just made it worse that she wasn't exactly being entirely honest. She did want to go to get new supplies but most because she was curious.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Cpt. Caintry Osborne Character Portrait: Varsh Terask Character Portrait: Carina Turais Character Portrait: Robyn 'Bobbie'  Janye Character Portrait: Lady Mercy Character Portrait: Eire Seeleheiler Character Portrait: Jia Fang Character Portrait: Kilian Lutz Character Portrait: Matrist Bromin Character Portrait: Jamoke Nykima Character Portrait: Damascus Vieri Character Portrait: Jeremiah Shenk Character Portrait: Nadia Blackmoore Character Portrait: Emory Alderich Character Portrait: Elric Mahal
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#, as written by Legate
Matrist Bromin


After descending to deck level and seeing some of the crew on deck, Matrist had taken up his post by the mast where he had remained unseen for the most part while he watched the rest of the crew come on deck. As they gathered and waited for the captain, Matrist could not help but reflect on the oddity of voting on a destination, in what should have been a rigid command structure. Never in his time standing the wall had this ever happened, surely, he mused, this could lead to dissent and possible mutiny down the road. However, if the captain wanted to pursue decision making structures that meant it was more likely for Matrist to be able to fulfill his own mission so much the better.

Eventually the captain did come out and took a quick turn around the crew, to Matrists surprise he was noticed and nodded at. A strange feeling ran through him at the time, as it seemed as though the captain understood how he felt as if he had jumped forward in time. The island of Dimmar was a woefully technologically bereft place, however because of that magic ran in the veins of the folk there more strongly than many other places, deep, and old, strange, and wild. However, Matrist did not wish to give away any of his background or ties to that place yet. Though it was rare to find people who had traveled to Dimmar, and rarer still to find those who knew anything of the Mistwalkers, their reputation as assassins, and more specifically mage-hunters, tended to make people.... uneasy. So instead he gave the bow of the outer Torrad islands; right hand across his chest over his heart, the palm outwards, a slight inclination of the head, and but the barest bend at the waist. It was more the impression of what might have been a bow, but they were a proud people.

The Captains speech was illuminating, full of passion and conviction, though hiding the glimpses of unknown stories as well. Charismatic and yet somehow unknowable, he spoke of recruiting the crew for the stories glimpsed in their eyes. Matrist almost chuckled, there would certainly be few people with eyes as unusual as his; over-large and glowing a blue in the faintest way you might not even notice. He offered them choice, decide he said, where shall we go, and one by one the crew spoke up. Some cast their votes simply, and some would be orators persuaded and cajoled, some used bravado, and some used simpler appeals. Ultimately, there could be only one choice when the votes were all numbered. Seeing this, and knowing that the fulfillment of his true mission could occur at any of their ports of call, Matrist elected a different route.

Either entirely unnoticed by the majority of the crew or forgotten of in the self interest of voting, Matrist stepped forward and into the silence spoke the first words many of the crew had heard from him.

"Where my Captain goes, I follow" Simply that, no more needed to be said and he was not a man to waste words or blow hot air when his task could be simply accomplished. With a nod to Caintry at his spot, he resumed his lean against the mainmast.