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Cpt. Jerrod Rottsan

NPC; Pirate Captain

0 · 208 views · located in The Smuggler's Cove

a character in “Zenith Rising”, as played by Exodyus

Description

He looks like a pirate?
Biforcated hat.
Crimson overcoat.
Keeps locks of victim's hair, weaved into his dreadlocks.
Armed to the teeth.
Average strength.
Average intellect.

Personality

Ruthless. Mean. Drunkard. Violent.
Hostile. Bitter. Cutthroat.

Equipment

Muskets - slow, ball rounds. Poor accuracy. Poor skill.
Saber - average skill.
Daggers - above average skill. A dozen or so.
-- Skilled at throwing as well.

History

Never has there been a more ruthless pirate on record, according to the Exodyus World Alliance (EWA). Their dossier on Captain Rottsan is extensive and it has even been recorded that he's caused cities to vanish off the map with his horrendous and violent pillaging.

Rumors indicate that he poisoned the previous Captain to take control, but nothing proves that the man didn't die by anything but natural causes. However the rumors spread silently due to the fact that no one dies from natural causes at the age of thirty. Since his reign, an unknown number of civilians have perished and he's been on the wanted list for the EWA for quite some time, however they don't have the strength or numbers to combat the pirate on his own terrain, head on.

So begins...

Cpt. Jerrod Rottsan's Story

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#, as written by Exodyus
A swift hand crossed my face and I fell to my knees, ivory hair hanging loosely over a rosy mark. The master was angry. A violent smuggler and I'd been caught on the ass-end of yet another drunken tirade and again, I did nothing to defend myself. I remained resilient and silent while he stormed around the lofty tent. His frustration was evident and my empathy knew better of it. Having sent ships out over a week ago, only one had returned in pieces. The World Alliance, an executive group claiming rights over Exodyus as a World Police, had ... interfered this time, and divided his crew severely. Rightly so he was angry, but when Captain Rottsan was, he usually took it out on me as some sort of sick, dominating feeling he got from it -- and always plastered.

Storm clouds rolled over the camp ominously. They always had since the first day that the camp was settled, some seventeen years ago by Rottsan and his crew. Since that moment it had become a brooding, festering cesspool of villainous acts. Rape. Murder. Drunken fights. Something that on one foresaw was that the storms that had followed us, the coverings that had always taken place around them, around this cove had all started when they took my from my parents. A Perrata trait, gone unnoticed forevermore. I knew not why the clouds hung so low, but I felt such a connection with them and always looked upon them gratefully, as if knowing that my parents were always near by...

Wiping the blood from my split lip, I sighed softly. Rolling back onto my haunches, resting most of the weight of my frame upon gaunt knees I awaited to be hit again. Eventually he would tire and then pass out, leaving me to do whatever I wished, which is why I returned to my once-abused position again. Swollen and red, the right side of my face had plumped up a shade, but after years of this, I'd grown accustomed to being the drunk's punching bag. What he was running from. Why he was masking his fear was beyond me. He'd done something in his past that he obviously wasn't proud of and it haunted him to this day.

"I've lost ... over a third of my crew." He ranted drunkenly.

I remained silent, as always.

Do you know what this means?" Dark red eyes glared upon me with anger and rage that only brought froth to the corner's of his lips. A thousand-yard stare penetrated my face and he snarled angrily, throwing his hands around like a child confused. He spat at the ground. Kicked over furniture in the overly-elaborate tent. The place where he'd spent most of his time planning and preparing was the same place I was chained to. I had my ways and dared not to divulge them, but everything in this place was a temple to the Captain over years and years of success. Goods brought from all around, fine trinkets of gold and silver, weapons of the most ornate and gorgeous construct, given as gifts for his sacrifice to his men -- and here he was, acting like an insolent toddler.

The shit I have to put up with for a moment's silence...

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kalenis Character Portrait: Cpt. Jerrod Rottsan Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Exodyus
With the captain finally passed out due to his poor health and habits, I finally had time to myself. It had been quite a long day and I was truly in need of some peace and quiet. The day had started off like any other -- being Rottsan's only personal slave, I readied his breakfast and shower, his shaving needs, and laid out his clothing for the day. Needless to say, I never wanted kids after taking care of this ridiculous douche bag and couldn't wait to be rid of him and out of this place. But ... who was I kidding? I was stuck in this place forever, as I had only known this life for years and years, and now I was simply catering to the leader and still being beaten on a regular basis.

Crawling silently to the rear of his tent, I grabbed the pole that my chain was lanced through and slid it to one side, and pulled the loop out from beneath the pole. My temporary freedom. I didn't even know where to go if I had gone. To escape would be a short-lived journey and a rude awakening in the light of pain on the other side. Rottsan and his men knew these woods like the back of their hands -- the only knowledge that I had, which could compare to something like that would have been the inside of this damn tent. I could tell you where anything in this tent was at any moment's notice.

Tucking myself under the rear of the canopy, I exited into the night with a soft, refreshing sigh. The air was clean and smelled of surf salt, which lapped against the shore beneath a large, but indistinguishable moon. The clouds which hung so low to the ground seemed to fill the valley as they always had, yet when I looked toward where the moon was -- the spread, allowing the large orb to smile down upon me with it's wondrous, pale face. I'd made my way through the trees to sit on a rock which was half-slid into a small pond. I knew of this place well and came here often. My own secluded bathing pool. It hadn't been more than a minute before I'd stripped down and was relaxing silently in the cool water. The sounds of the forest surrounding me and nothing on my mind but washing away depressing thoughts of the day.

I'd been wading around, spreading out and laying flat on the surface staring up at the moon that stared back. I loved to float. To enjoy the silence of the water and dreamed of being able to breath in the cool liquid, so that one day I could escape this place by swimming off into the oceans. It hadn't been more than a few minutes when I heard something slosh at the water's edge and sat upright, kicking my feet to tread water. Dark curious eyes darted around as I surveyed the surroundings but really saw nothing beyond the blotchy ebony of the surrounding shrubs and trees. Instinctively, I made my way toward the rock where I usually sat and spun around, pressing my rump to the slippery stone and gliding up the face. As I did though, I felt something prick me in the side of the leg and reached down, only to feel something slimy disappear ... into me.

The confusion of this incident was only coupled by the striking pain which caused me to convulse hard. Throwing my back to the stone, my head pushed off the rock and my lungs gasped. It felt like I was inhaling fire. My veins were engorged with venom and my eyes had grown hazy at best and then foggier until suddenly, I was unconscious. The last thing I had remembered was the whisper of a voice, echoing throughout my head with a hissing sound.

Relax, dear child... rest now.

Characters Present

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#, as written by Exodyus
Vivid dreams of monsters and more clouded the darkness that might have been construed as my mind -- an abyss of trouble that I couldn't awake from, the pain and agony of watching my family burn alive. Such horrific events only seemed to be replaying once, without sequence or reason, my past came back to haunt me. And in the end, a light at the end of the tunnel. It was a beacon and so I ran for it, with all my strength, my might, my will alone and with a gasp, I threw my arms out and jumped for the blinding white essence.

With a shriek, my arms flew out and grappled the small desk that sat to one side of my bed and the other arm a chair cast of fine weaved woods. I flailed for a moment without barrings or sound mind, frightened by the dreams into the prime reality where the morning sun blinked through a small slit that I'd put in the tent to signify morning for me at the appropriate time. The wind fluttered the hole, allowing light to flash and blink -- it was the only way I knew to wake myself before my master dared to beat me to the punch... or just beat me, in general.

It's shot upright in my fear. Hands gripping and groping the tattered, filthy pants along my legs and then down to my ankle where the beast had come in the night. Unsure of it, I groped and looked, searching for my nightmare, but found nothing. I sighed heavily with a weary brow, wondering what I'd gotten myself into, to have such tremendous night terrors. I replayed the day before and could remember nothing that I'd eaten differently than any other day and sighed, wiping the beads of sweat from my brow. Glancing about carefully, I found the Captain passed out in the same place that I'd left him and decided to arise and get his day ready for him before I decided to figure out what to do with my own.

I stood wobbly and stretched. Gaunt arms arose and lifted the putrid shirt from my lean abdomen to find nothing but skin and bones where my fingers kneaded. I sighed, shrugged at my own personal looks and hygiene and moved on to get the Captain's things. Fresh-ish clothing was set out for him -- something that was cleaner than most of his stuff, but by no means perfect. It was hard keeping things clean without the proper tools and they never seemed to want to steal a washboard or some scrubbing stones, so he got my best, which sucked in comparison. Cleaning and shaving kit set out, I moved to the stove and whipped him up some breakfast. No sooner had I started and prepared it, did the smell arouse the foul beast and he snorted and stumbled toward me, after standing. He'd gone to slap me up the backside of the head as a good morning ... and that's when the first odd thing happened.

Instinctively, I felt the hand coming. The weird part? I was looking at the make-shift stove, eyes locked on the eggs that were boiling around the bacon fat. The man's hand came swinging loosely -- not too hard, as this was his morning greeting, probably bestowed upon him by his father and his father before him. A ritualistic beating of affection. Regardless, my body acted instinctively and the hand was pushed away by my own will. I didn't want him to strike me again, and so he didn't. The hand was effectively evaded by an unseen force and the man's unreliable weight had shifted throwing him off course and to the ground with a great groaning noise, and a crashing, busting chair. I gasped, spinning around quickly. I took him by the arm and pulled him to his feet with a look of shock and awe and to my astonishment, he didn't strike at all, but stared puzzled.

"Are you alright, Master?" I questioned.

"I ... I ... give me my breakfast." He pulled away angrily embarrassed. Not wanting to admit his own fault or accuse the boy of something his mind surely couldn't comprehend this early he snorted and took up another chair, kicking the pieces of the broken one aside. I served him humbly with all that he asked and cleaned the wound on the back of his hand while he ate; a piece of the chair that had broken had took a bite of the man's flesh as a souvenir. As I cleaned it, I kept silent about the feeling I'd had seconds before he fell and Rottsan said nothing. My mind whirled with questions around the event and how it had come to be. After a few moments, it was the Captain who broke the silence.

"The men and I are leaving for a few days. You will stay here and clean. Keep the peace. Make sure things get done."

"Yes, Master. I will do as you command." I said quietly.

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