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Meira Drakkar

"I will go anywhere as long as it is forward."

0 · 563 views · located in Valiesa

a character in “Winter's Bounty”, as played by fading-into-eternity


P L A Y E D . B Y :

"I will go anywhere as long as it is forward."

T H E M E S :
Dreams, Us, I See Fire, To the North

ImageN A M E:
Meira Drakkar

N I C K N A M E:
Mei / Drakks / Pixie

P O S I T I O N:
Helmsman / Swordsman (steerer and fighter)

G E N D E R:

S E X U A L . O R I E N T A T I O N:

R A C E:
Sédalian Elf

A G E:

H E I G H T:
5 foot 8 inches

D E S C R I P T I O N:
Meira is tall and slim, with long legs and arms. She always seems to be slightly dirty, but her hair is always impeccably red with braids and beads. Meira's eyes are a piercing, calculating blue, and she has pale skin and sharp features, especially her pointed ears, which she keeps hidden with her hair and iconic hat. She is quite tall for an elf, but she believes to have received this trait from her half-elf father. Other than her height, she is very small all-around, weighing a mere ninety-eight pounds, and made of mainly lean muscle.

She often wears her trench coat over a white flowing shirt and brown pants with several large belts and holsters. Her boots are tall and also brown, and her hat is her essential piece of clothing, hiding her ears and some of her face. Meira has a tattoo oh her dual swords on the inside of her left wrist and another of a beautiful bird on her back. She has scars all over, mainly from being on ship and in fights, her most prominent scat is directly above her right eyebrow, and hidden by her hat because of its rather unsightly appearance.


N A T I O N A L I T Y: Sédalian

C R E E D: "Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all."

M O T I V A T I O N: Meira truly wishes to seek out adventure, bring light to the condition of Elves, and make her parents proud.

L I K E S:
whiskey ♦ sunlight ♦ messy hair ♦ sore muscles ♦ freedom ♦ the smell of wood fire smoke ♦ organization ♦ lbeing witty / sarcastic ♦ the sea ♦ wind ♦ passionate people ♦ motivated people ♦ fighters ♦ fighting ♦ climbing ♦ laughing ♦ storytelling ♦ her hat ♦ adventures

D I S L I K E S:
snow ♦ xenophobes ♦ directions ♦ people who don’t listen ♦ drunkards ♦ rapists ♦ unorganized people ♦ dancing ♦ mysterious / sketchy people ♦ messing up ♦ weakness ♦ not being able to fight ♦ fear ♦ illness ♦ getting captured ♦ being a slave ♦ selfishness

S T R E N G T H S:
Sword fighting ♦ Meira is a natural, her dual swords are extensions of her own body.
Climbing ♦ She's small, so it's easy, she likes to see things from a bird's eye view.
Directions ♦ As the Helmsman, she has to know where the crew and ship need to go.
Unyielding ♦ Meira will never, ever give up.

W E A K N E S S E S:
Small ♦ She is not strong, though she is fierce, and without a place to climb, run, or use her swords, she is easily overtaken.
Elven ♦ When people find out, they tend to distance themselves or manipulate her.
Quiet ♦ It is in her nature to remain unheard, sometimes when her opinion is needed.
Scars ♦ She has her triggers, and is afraid of many things because of her past.

P E R S O N A L I T Y:
Meira comes off as cold and careless when first met by others, but only because she had built a very thick, tall wall around herself that only she can break down. She almost always is glaring, or seemingly glaring, and usually has a rather blank expression on her face. She is not afraid to state her opinion (when she does speak), even if it will get her in trouble and, like a lioness, she is stubborn when things don't go her way. She fights for her case and for things that she is passionate about, especially when they have to do with equality. Mei is outspoken when she must be and courageous, and even though she is seemingly heartless, Meira cares passionately for those that are close to her or those who fight valiantly for her or their own cause, and would give up her life for any of those people. She is not naive or very trusting, and is cold initially, but Mei has a big heart, that can get her into trouble when she invests too much into people. She is intelligent, and could survive on her own should the need arise.

Though she does enjoy the company of others, Meira also enjoys and cherishes spending time in solitude. Other than her emotions of anger or confidence, Mei rarely shows any expression unless she is with very close friends. She comes off as cold and strong because of this, both of which are true to a point, but she is primarily a kind person. Selfless and driven, Meira wants to change the world one day. She protects her loved ones and most others at all costs, often hurting herself in the process, but never giving up.


E Q U I P M E N T:
Her beloved Dawn & Dusk.
Her all-together ensemble.
A flask filled with either whiskey or water, depending on the day.

H I S T O R Y:
Meira grew up speaking old Elvish in Sédali with her parents, both of whom were teachers, and her younger brother Ansley. He childhood was relatively peaceful, traveling within Sédali when they were very young and then moving to Tarn for a job so that her parents could teach. Her brother and she trained from books, Mei using her grandfather's short swords and Ansley their uncle's broadsword. Their parents loved them, and protected them as well as the y could from those who would wish to hurt the Sédalian elves. When the two were twelve and ten respectively and living in a home near the border, they wandered off into a small city of Tarn where the people were less friendly towards elves. They were brutally kidnapped and sold to a pirate, who hired them to become mercenaries at such young ages. They never even said goodbye to their parents. Mei promised herself that she would take care of Ansley and keep him safe since she had been unable to keep him free.

After several years aboard the ship as child soldiers, Ansley died of a strange disease, along with the captain. Meira was devastated, and began to disobey orders to purposefully be punished, as if it were her fault that her brother died and she deserved punishment, which she did not. She took to wearing his hat. When she was seventeen she was sold again because of her disobedience to an insane captain who gave her many of the scars she has today, including the one above her eyebrow when she refused to go to bed with him. Living on as a slave, Mei was used to being dirty and abused, and she began to speak less as she lost heart and hope. When her captain's ship was liberated by rebels, she was the one to kill her owner, with a smile on her face. She willingly joined the crew who had saved her, making her own decision for the first time, and training under their helmsman. She then left that ship when she was fully trained and hid her Elven identity to join a merchant ship's crew so that she could travel the world. She speaks a very accented English, and only remembers life at sea, but never a free life. She is scarred both physically and mentally, and has changed over her meany years, but wants to truly find herself on her new journey. Her goal is to learn and experience and to one day reunite with her parents, but even if she never sees them again she wants to make them proud. Of course, however, a storm is brewing on the horizon, and not everything is as peaceful as it seems.

S H I P . C U R R E N T L Y . A B O A R D:
The Wind In the Barley

So begins...

Meira Drakkar's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lei Xing Character Portrait: Adalrik Baltasar Character Portrait: Meira Drakkar
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Meira shivered at the helm as dawn's golden fingers caressed the horizon, sending the waves into a frenzy of dancing light. The fog of that night still had not lifted, and maneuvering the ship through the icy darkness had been treacherous indeed. Mei was great full for the awakening sun and sighed with relief even as the fog still settled on the deck. She kept one hand on the wheel as she tipped her hat back with the other, brushing her damp hair out of her eyes. She hadn't slept much the past few days, she had been needed on helm as much as possible with the icebergs approaching and hadn't had a proper chance to get any shuteye, not that it mattered, being at the helm was calming for Mei, she enjoyed the ebb and flow of the ocean below her and the sounds of life on deck.

She wrapped her coat about her and watched as the captain stood distinctly on the quarter deck, looking pensively off into the distance. She wondered what his next move would be, glancing back out to the sea ahead of her to see if the fog had lifted. It hadn't. It would be difficult to continue much further in these frigid waters if the fog did not give, and Meira knew that the captain was well aware of that.

"Pixie," the Captain said, turning towards Meira suddenly. She looked back to him.

"Aye, sir?" Her voice sounded rough from not speaking in a while. She cleared her throat.

"Get yourself some coffee or something, you look tired," he continent without any real trace of concern in his voice. Mei frowned down at the man. Why would he suddenly ask her to take care of herself, he knew she was an elf, and was one of the few people who did, which was probably why she had enjoyed relative peace and quiet while living with this crew. The captain wasn't an overpowering man, but he had never really shown her any concern before. "We'll need you in top shape for this next leg of the journey, you'll be following a difficult route in these waters." Ah, there it was.

Mei nodded at the man before leaving the wheel in his care as their navigator came aboard. He looked flustered, which didn't often happen, and Meira a bit nervous. The shorter elf nodded at her and she greeted him back as she made her way below deck. Even in the early hours of morning the crew's quarters were alive with sounds and smells. The cook was dealing out coffee and biscuits to the groggy group and Mei grabbed a mug and filled hers up, leaning back for a moment as well as she could against the side of the ship. She sipped delicately in the mug and smiled a small smile of relief as the warm liquid sank down her throat. She glanced around the quarters and chuckled at the waking crew who were trying desperately to bundle up before changing shifts and getting to work.

Meira finished her coffee sooner than she would have liked and began to make her way back to the helm, putting her normal, serious face back on. Her hand rested naturally on the hilt of her sword as her face came above deck and she saw a look of terror pass over the navigator's face. What was wrong? She didn't have time to think before the ship shook with cannon blast a bullet hit the small man directly between the eyes, a clean, cruel shot. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she dashed to the man, keeping her head covered by her hands and ducking down to keep her balance as the ship was rocked with hit after hit and trying to avoid the bullets from the longer range rifles. The guns of the other ship were doing a fair amount of damage to the Tarn ship, though the crew were luck that it was still slightly too far for most shotguns to reach. The ship rocked dangerously as they were hit yet again. She looked down at him. Dead.

There was blood on her boots as she raised her eyes to find the source of the killers, eyes sharp, feet stable. She could see it now, the fog had lifted. This would be a bloody dawn. She looked towards her captain for direction and drew her swords, hiding the fear that she suddenly felt for her freedom and life. The wood of the hull was splintering as it took on more hits.

"Captain!" She shouted, voice no longer quiet. A bullet whizzed by her head and she flinched. "Your orders sir?"


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lei Xing Character Portrait: Xandra Ravenswood Character Portrait: Samara DeVries Character Portrait: Abraham 'Abe' Gillbride Character Portrait: Adalrik Baltasar Character Portrait: Layen McGuillen Character Portrait: Asad al-Hezzeri Character Portrait: Meira Drakkar
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Smoke filled the air. It wafted slowly upwards in loose clouds of esoteric and half formed shapes, lingering against the ceiling, packing the room full with a dense miasma of strong tobacco. There was something strangely organic about its behavior. As if it were trying to contrive images or convey thoughts. The pungent aroma was overpowering, and it seeped into everything. So much so that you could easily tell what kind of leaf Asad preferred just by taking a whiff of his clothes. A pot of coffee was simmering away on the galley stove, its own redolence intermingling with the scent of burning tobacco. The galley was a smallish room, sequestered underneath the fo'c'sle deck. The stove was the dominating feature, its black wrought iron body was designed to incorporate as many necessary amenities in as compact a space as possible. The Bounty's past life as a pleasure ship for a nobleman had meant she was equipped more than adequately. Apparently he had been looking forward to some choice meals.

Things were much too quiet above, and so he had resigned to remain below until things got a bit louder. Or, as he would say, waiting for the party to begin. These chilly northern mornings were a bit dull, and not just because of their oft drab color schemes. The overbearing grey was just the tip of the iceberg- a very fitting metaphor, considering their environs- but more importantly it was warmer down in front of the stove. He was already shrouded in a coat, but all that did was take the edge off. He needed something stronger. In this case, something dosed with caffeine. Coffee was an enduring element in southern Gliesa, with its popularity spreading north later due to Baijat's expansion. Even with its adoption and fame among other peoples, he still saw himself as bringing a bit of real coffeehouse culture to these northern barbarians. Truthfully it was better as a traded commodity, but he always managed to scrape a little aside whenever they found some in a haul. He liked to argue bullshit sentimentality, and even though he got his way he was fairly certain the Captain knew full well he was lying through his teeth.

If anything, it only ingratiated him to Xing even more.

When it was finally finished, as he transferred the concoction into a cup, he began to mutter absentmindedly to himself. "Life, represented in a cup." He brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the steaming hot drink. Following a sigh of contentment, he continued, "Dark, bitter, concealing complexity and vigor. Requiring careful heed to dig up the truth." He took another sip, savoring the conjoined flavors of smoke and coffee. "Maybe Aron should replace Daré with a bean. Talk about a much more interesting godhead. That would really be something to explore."

He was halfway through another draught when a row from above snagged his ear. Moments later a sailor stuck his head into the galley. "Colors are hoisting, we're near to boarding," he cried. With that, the crewman turned and made swiftly for the stairs.

Asad hesitated, carefully pondering his predicament. He was not yet finished with his drink, but now they were on the verge of an attack. Brilliant. He considered taking his sweet time, as his usefulness in a fight was questionable at best. Eyeing the dark liquid sloshing gently around in its vessel, his brow steadily furrowed it looked as if he were weighing matters of grandiose importance. Releasing an exasperated sigh, he downed the rest of the coffee, ignored the scorching heat, and snatched his long gun from its resting place. He marched haltingly to the stairs, climbing up to the deck where the crew was assembled, preparing for the barney to come. Propping the rifle against his shoulder, he absentmindedly stroked the bowl of his pipe with his off hand. Adalrik, the Quartermaster, was preparing to set off the powder keg.

He had to bite his tongue to keep from reflexively remarking on the ritual. He doubted Pellar weighed events based on silly little rites like this, but he would also deny the notion that he remotely understood the gods. Perhaps there was something about these little games that the lord of fate enjoyed. Regardless of whether or not those damned dice were rolling, Adalrik landed his shot. The crack of his rifle marked a clean kill, the round punching straight through some poor sailor's head.

The funereal silence abated with an eruption of violence as the chase cannons cheered. He picked out Xandra and Layen, both anticipating the oncoming brawl. As the rest of the crew prepared for the boarding run, Asad tucked his own rifle into place and shifted his pipe over to the other side of his mouth. He peered down the barrel, leveling it toward the Wind as she came even with the Bounty. There were a myriad of dark shapes scurrying about her deck, and he held his fire. Waiting for the most opportune moment. One of them paused, and he immediately trained his sights on the figure. Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, a mighty swell slammed into the Bounty and sent him swaying. Angrily thrusting the barrel skyward, Asad leaned over the starboard gunwale, glaring at the sloshing sea below. "Your input is most appreciated, and I do thank you, now quit it!" Finished barking at the God of the Sea, he settled his rifle again and hunted for another target. They would be boarding soon, and he was much less trusting of his aim during an intense melee. As soon as he had a shot lined up, he took it. The sailor's head jerked back, and then slumped to the deck.

“Mm,” Asad shook his head, almost mournfuly. “Lovely kill.” A figure in the corner of his eye grabbed his attention, and he glanced over his shoulder. Alvar, the doctor, was stood at the head of the stairs, watching the bloodbath unfold. Putting on a grin, he plucked his pipe from his mouth, almost in the same manner someone might doff their hat. “A fantastically grey morn to you, sawbones. Looking forward to a few mercy killings, are we?” He barked out a laugh, and freed his off hand to load another bullet into the rifle.

"Captain!" Meira shouted against the sudden din of battle. "Your orders sir?"

Marston stomped down the stairs from the quarterdeck, a fierce glower on his face. He was the embodiment of composure, the stern exterior layered over a fiery rage burning in his gut. “All hands to general quarters, gather your arms! Be damned the ones who let their ship fall victim to blackguard scum!” He took deep breaths to calm his rage, which had long been a bane of his. He needed to think clearly, and fought against the bile that seeped into his veins and muddled his mind. Pirates were no longer a threat in Gliesa, but he had felt his share of their bite before the Ports kicked them from his native shores. Working back and forth between the two continents meant you were right in their firing line all over again, because the sheer size of Batheon's territory provided a refuge all in itself. Little changed in their tactics, aside from employing the oft inclement weather to their advantage.

“Keep eyes peeled on the surf, watch for any signs of fishwives in the waves!” He bellowed, sending his gaze about like a lighthouse's beam scouring the darkness. Only he was hunting for cowardice, not wayward vessels. “Spear 'em afore they come aboard!” He did not so much as flinch when the pirates' chase cannons took to barking, and it only served to make him angrier. “Cut their lines when come across, knock them into the drink! Every one that comes aboard is an insult to the Kingom! We are defending sovereign land, repel them from His Majesty's property!” He caught sight of an arrow impaling one of his men, the poor soul clutching uselessly at the shaft as he dropped to the deck.

When the two ships came even, grapples sailed over from the Bounty, finding purchase in the Wind's gunwale. The pirates surged over in force, and Marston was ready to meet them. His cutlass sung a grim note as it left its scabbard, and he rallied his crew with a vicious cry. One of the first seamen who came across met his end upon Jakobin's blade, and fell to the weather deck in a pool of his own dark ichor. For an aging man, he put up a fight with every drop of strength he had left, and was a terrible opponent. He would either see these dogs in pieces, or fall in battle. He would allow nothing in between.

Another pirate came a-swingin' at him, forcing him to take a large stride back. He waited for an opening, and promptly planted the bottom of his boot in the man's gut. With his opponent knocked off balance, Marston gave a mighty swing of his cutlass. Half his blade sunk into the pirate's neck before it came to a halt, and the attacker gave a single gurgling shout. Blood gushed out across the silvery steel, and he viciously ripped the sword back out with both hands wrapped 'round the hilt. Knowing he could not so much as pause, he immediately stepped forward into another lunge. Pirates were merciless cutthroats at best, and gods damn him if he did not meet them in kind.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lei Xing Character Portrait: Xandra Ravenswood Character Portrait: Adalrik Baltasar Character Portrait: Layen McGuillen Character Portrait: Asad al-Hezzeri Character Portrait: Meira Drakkar
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"All hands to general quarters, gather your arms! Be damned the ones who let their ship fall victim to blackguard scum!” the captain took a deep breath as he ordered his crew after Mei's shout. "Keep your eyes peeled on the surf, watch for any signs of fishwives in the waves!” He bellowed, his eyes scanning the sea sharply, cutting through the lowering fog."Spear 'em afore they come aboard! Cut their lines when come across, knock them into the drink! Every one that comes aboard is an insult to the Kingdom! We are defending sovereign land, repel them from His Majesty's property!”

Meira listened to his long call as she held Dawn and Dusk at the ready, eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of help. There was none. She felt herself awaken more in the brisk air as she held herself at the ready, feeling the adrenaline rushing through her.

A man's shadow was cast long behind her and she turned quickly to face him, cutting him down in one clean swipe. She was ruthless, but never messy with her kills. It was a good idea to back her captain up at the moment and she turned her back towards him so that he could fight another man one on one. She fought off attackers from seemingly every angle, the ship rocking from guns and battle.

Her arms were becoming heavy in the heat of the battle, but her adrenaline rushed on, that is until there was the clear sound of a shot being fired very near to her right side. She grunted in pain. As the bullet pierced her arm, leaving Dusk dangling at her side. The man who took the shot was grinning as he reloaded as quickly as he could to fire again. Not quick enough. She turned swiftly towards him, using her momentum to swing Dawn sharply through his neck leaving a clean, bloody line as he fell with a thump.

She heard another shot ring out behind her and turned in horror as the two fighting men, her captain and a pirate shot at each other, each being hit by the other, but not fatally.

She clutched at her arm as the sweet sounds of battle began dying about her, many of her crew mates had fallen, although they had done the it fair share of damage to the other side as well. It looked grim and her vision swirled around her leaving her dizzy and aching. Too much blood loss for ome morning. She leaned on the side of the ship as the man who had been fight in the captain rang out "I think we're about done here, no?" Many of her mates agreed in solemn murmurs. They had lost.

Meira sheathed her beloved swords in her belt and held onto the edge for support as she awaited orders from anyone willing to give them. And she was really starting to enjoy herself on this crew, for the first time since she could remember in a very long time.

She clutched her bloody arm and whispered. "Aye Ansley, if you could see this now." She gave a small sad smile and then turned towards the man who had called the end of their fight, nervous for her fate but stoic nonetheless.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lei Xing Character Portrait: Abraham 'Abe' Gillbride Character Portrait: Adalrik Baltasar Character Portrait: Meira Drakkar Character Portrait: Leah Payne
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Abe stood, arrow nocked, watching the lines they had set up. If anyone got too close, he would take them out. One or two brave souls would come to close to the lines and get an arrow through the chest for their troubles. Evidently their captain hadn't realised that as he continued to give the orders for the lines to be cut.

Three, four, five. Abe's arrows were hastily dispatched.

As more men went on board, it became harder to tell friend from foe and Abe's arrows slowed. Not that the crew needed any help. They were doing a wonderful job of cutting down the Barley's crew on their own. He heard a cry off to his left. Abe turned and saw a line fall, a few good men with it. He pressed his lips into a thin line, searching for the soul who had severed the line. He saw a small, dark haired girl pulling on an axe. Frowning, he pulled the bowstring back, waiting for a clear shot on the girl. As he was about to release his arrow, she moved, lifting the axe and spinning away. Then she was gone.

Abe relaxed the bowstring, lowering his bow. From the corner of his eye, he saw another man reach for the line. Quickly and surely, Abe let his arrow fly into the man, keeping the line in tact. A familiar whistle sounded and the crew stopped. Abe lowered his bow and relaxed. They'd made it again.

"Captain Xing, the opening negotiations have concluded. The ship is yours!"

Leah held the nail steady, gently tapping it into the wood. She held another two between her teeth. How had they managed to break the bunk so badly? On second thoughts, she didn't want to know. What the crew got up to in their free time was down to them. Still, she thought, it would be nice if she didn't have to clean up after them. Leah hammered the last nail in, barely paying attention to the world around her. A war could have started there and then and she would have been none the wiser.

A loud crash echoed around the cabin. Leah started, looking around her. What? Oh, oh no. Leah scrambled to her feet, grabbing her axe as she did. She briefly remembered hearing that they were being pursued by another ship, pirates was the word bandied about by some of the more fanciful members of the crew. Whatever the truth, that ship had caught up with them and was now blowing holes in the ship; holes that she and her master were going to have to fix if they came out of this. Leah shuddered at the thought of that seat. She might as well cling to the side of the ship herself. She made her way to the deck, albeit reluctantly. All the way she could hear the cries of battle on deck.


Actual pirates.

Attacking the crew she had worked for for years. The same crew who had afforded her little respect because she wasn't as useful as she could be. She was just an apprentice. May their deities help them if she ever made it to master carpenter. Or would it be mistress? Who knew? More importantly at this moment in time, who cared? Leah gripped her axe, looking for the lines. If she didn't cut them, and the crew came out of this, she would be blamed for not helping. Leah sighed, heading for the lines. In the confusion of the battle, it became difficult enough to get close to a line without being killed. She swung her axe down, severing the rope and sent a handful of men into the ocean. She heard a yell behind her. Leah looked over her shoulder and saw a giant of a man coming towards her. Leah began tugging on the axe, trying to lift it free of the wood. She felt the head give and the axe came free. She spun, using her momentum to bury the axe in the side of his neck. He gave a strange, surprised sound. Evidently being killed by an elf girl wasn't on his list of things to do today. Leah pulled the axe free. Blood spurted from the wound as the man slumped. Leah looked down at her bloodstained clothes. Even when they died, men were filthy buggers.

Leah took a moment to look around. They were losing. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Maybe if she knew more about the pirates, she would know how she felt. They took from the rich, right? Wealthy merchant ships like this one. They couldn't be all bad. A whistle rang out and the pirates stopped. Leah shifted her grip on the axe, waiting for the next move. There were perhaps a handful of the crew left. Where was Jones? She cast a cursory glance over the corpses littering the deck, not looking at any one for too long. She didn't want confirmation of what she feared.

"Captain Xing, the opening negotiations have concluded. The ship is yours!"

Well, shit.