Physical Information:
Height: 6' 4" (193cm)
Weight: 227lbs (103kg)
Body Build: Muscular, well fed.
Hair Style: A mohawk
Scars: A branding mark in his right buttcheek, marking "R". Cuts from various little blades neatly scarred a bit all over his body.
Hair: At parts almost pitch black, at parts red / orange
Eyes: Brown
Skin: Tanned, softer than you'd expect.
Gear:
He has a selection of battle axes hanging from his belt. One of them is made of bone, one is gleaming with dark energy and the third seems like a mundane axe for the naked eye (+4 Enchantment). He takes pride on his Mithral Breastplate that he wears constantly, keeping him protected on the seas but still being light enough for him to swim. He also has multiple money pouches hanging off his belt. On his back he has a cloak he keeps quite dear, soaked in bloodstains but radiating regenerative energy.
He wears a black scarf tied around his head, on top of the scarf there's an tricorn hat. Quite light steel-reinforced boots decor his feet.
Jewelry:
His fingers are covered with different sorts of rings, silver, gold, some decorated with gems.. Rubies, Obsidians and Sapphires. On his right hand middle finger he has his most priced ring, a ring with a Star Sapphire. He has an amulet depicting a silver trident, kept under his undershirt at all times.
Last edited by Gottmoerder on Mon Nov 07, 2011 6:16 am, edited 1 time in total.
In realms of Mordayn Vapor.. Rollin' DC 16's.. Groovy.
Vane orders an ale and orders a pint from Waitress Sally. He pats her butt gently and tosses her a few extra silver as tip for the good service. He grabs a fresh book off his bag, a tome with carefully tied leather covers, metal clasps on the front for locking up the tome. He opens it up and mutters to himself..
Times be rough.. Be'er start writin' wha' I've been up ta.. If I be meetin' my demise, someone'll get a good grip on wha' I've been up ta.. An' 'e name Redcode won' be goin' down into nothingness in vain.
Vane grabs a quill and a bottle of ink and starts writing on the parchment;
Greetings.
If you're reading this, it is likely that I have lost this tome drunk or have been drowned, keelhauled, maimed, burned, mutilated, cut, pierced with a spear, been eaten by the undead, the kraken, the drowned, the avatar of umberlee, or any combination of the above. What you're reading is a tale of me, autobiography if you will. Let me begin by introducing myself and by telling you why I'm scribing down my memoirs.
I am Vane Redcode. Some call me a pirate, some call me a sailor, some call me a fiend, some call me a loyal friend, some call me a skilled carpenter (a nickname which holds no truth), some call me a butcher. I am Luskan born, at this time twenty five years old. I write this in order for you to spread tales of my accomplishments forward, so the folk wherever you may be may learn out of my failures and my successes. These tales are a hundred percent guaranteed to be truthful, with no bend of fact, without a mix of bullshite. This I swear on my grave, wine bottle and tricorn hat.
\\OOC Notice: This book is well concealed and worked on by Vane as long as long as he is alive. The book will contain murders, crimes etc. but do not draw any conclusions about Vane IC of this before he meets his demise or loses this book.
Last edited by Gottmoerder on Mon Nov 07, 2011 5:42 am, edited 1 time in total.
In realms of Mordayn Vapor.. Rollin' DC 16's.. Groovy.
Like I told you, I was born in Luskan. My mother was a tavern waitress and my father was a shopkeep. We made a decent living, and my parents we're able to keep me and my two brothers fed, schooled and safe. I was always a bit of a showman, ever since my birth. What I've been told by parents, I started humming melodies I heard when I was six months old. Usually they we're sea shanties, or praises to Umberlee sung by sailors in the taverns.
I grew up listening to the stories of the sailors, bards, rogues and mercenaries. I listened to every single story with a keen ear, memorizing all the detail. I was taught the theory of seamanship, lore of the lands and beyond the seas, tales of Umberlee and Talos, basic mathematics and the basics of trading at foreign lands. One man stood out in particular during my lessons, a shady bearded fellow called Rogchem. At least that's how he introduced himself. He taught me of the arcane. How to read scrolls and decipher magic items. Each week he would bring scrolls of cantrips, wands of arcane and divine, and enchanted items that would suit only their rightful users. These we're the most interesting lessons of them all, and they're the ones that enable me to use all the equipment I use now to best my foes. You, the reader, should never underestimate the power of mere scrolls. They hold power beyond the sword and axe, hammer and scythe. They can be used for so many purposes I can't even begin to describe them. Anyways, this is a summary of my youngling years.
When I grew old enough I helped father with his shop. I sold items and learned more about appraisal. My fathers store was a general store, selling anything that arrived in stock, ranging from food supplies to magic weaponry. Working at the store I realized I had a knack for bargaining, my father being extremely proud. He wanted me to continue with his legacy, but instead another opportunities arose.
Luskan is well known for it's chaotic nature, and I never turn down an opportunity to make proper coin. No matter what the job includes. I had just turned fifteen when I met a representative of a Luskan guild, a guild of thieves. I was to be a messenger, because due to my size and strong figure I didn't seem to be one to be intimidated even in the darker alleys. I took it naturally, and did it for a few months. It was mostly the same thing repeating itself all over again, I recieved a sealed envelope and delivered to a location determined by the guild. I will not mention any names here, just for common sense. On the third month I encountered a group of five shadowy figures on one of my deliveries. They demanded I give the letter to them, three of them emerging on my front, two at my back. At that time I was always carrying a dagger and a handaxe for my defense. I can still remember the words of their leader, they echo in my skull like it was five minutes ago.. "Vane. You have two options. Give us the letter and start walking back where you came from, or be gutted at this spot with your entrails spread all around Luskan so that your mother will take five years to clean up the mess."
I've always been quick to anger naturally, and I sort of lost my senses when threatened by these five. I flung my handaxe to the head of the leader, dodged to the left and gutted on the thieves. A moment later while the ones at the back we're charging me I dodged a blow from the third thief and grabbed my handaxe from the head of their leader. I cracked his ribs with my left hand and threw the handaxe again towards the second man emerging from my right. It hit him on the throat, leaving him gargling and suffocating in his own blood on the spot. The other man charging cowered as the axe flew, and the second man tried to stab me with his dagger. I parried the blow with my dagger and punched the man in the jaw, knocking him down. I then threw my dagger at the other thief, who has just started to charge. It hit the eye, felling the man down instantly. I grabbed the knocked down thief by the arms and threw him to a pile of barrels. I ran, grabbed my axe and hacked off his legs. Somewhere in my frenzy of blood I started to hear him pleading. Pleading for me to spare him.
I looked at the man, sobbing. I slowly gained my normal focus and stared at the man. He explained to me that this was all to be a test. How would I react in the sense of danger. I had killed them all too quickly, as they had expected me unarmed. It was all to be a test, which I had failed miserably. I had now killed four members of the guild and left the fifth one crippled for life. I knew they we're going to come for me, so I left. For the first time ever I broke the secrecy I had sworn to the guild and opened the letter. It was empty. I discarded it, grabbed whatever gold and weapons I could pick up from my ambushers and left to the harbor at night.
I circled ship through ship until I found one that suited me. Salty Booty. A very small sloop. On the deck there was a man, bearded and with an eyepatch. He held sabers that emit a glow of fire on both of his sides. I looked at him and waved, "Hello! You wouldn't happen to have an opening for a job? Anything goes, as long as I'll get out of Luskan". "As a ma'er a fact, we do, son. Ge' ove' 'ere an' start rubbin' 'e decks. We be leavin' til Waterdeep nex' thing in 'e morning. Ye can sleep aboard if ye wish"..
This was the beginning of my years as a sailor. I will continue writing this soon, but for now.. I'm being called by the Captain.
Signed,
Vane
Last edited by Gottmoerder on Mon Nov 07, 2011 6:15 am, edited 1 time in total.
In realms of Mordayn Vapor.. Rollin' DC 16's.. Groovy.
Our crew was small and our swoop even smaller. I slept on the floor as the rest of the crew we're sleeping on hammocks, often waking up to a lumbering half-orc drooling above me, dripping over my head. We sailed the Sea of Swords, carrying small shipments of weapons, spices, treasures and food from city to city. From Luskan to Neverwinter, from Neverwinter to Waterdeep, from Ruathym's violent taverns to Baldur's Gate, Athkathla and Velen.
We we're always considered neutral and I often saw our captain handing out coin purses to men at the docks we landed to. We still made immense amounts of profits on our travels. I contributed to the crew with my knowledge of items and knack in appraisal, often noting facts of extra worth when dealing in magical weaponry. We we're always well supplied, never having to be hungry or thirsty. Plenty of rum, wine and beer aboard, always.
Let me tell you a little bit of the crew. Our captain, Henrik Hjollawind, a man from a small village off the Spine of the World, was a charismatic fellow. Pale man with a light brown beard, solid features and a stern body type. His voice was booming and raspy, and we heard each of his commands no matter the weather. I'm not sure how old he was, but I'd bet it'd be somewhere in the mid 40's. He was keen to command, smart in is moves but then again a fair captain.
His first mate was a Tiefling, a man with small horns called Jorth. He had a collection of magical daggers hanging off his belt, but his most notable feature, his horns excluded, was his tail. A long red tail which was reddish in colour. He was extremely nimble, being able to climb up the mast in mere seconds. He moved around the ship like the apes in the junkles of Chult, except with even more grace. On his mental side he was a prick though, telling cruddy joke after cruddy joke. If you didn't laugh, you'd be tailed in the face.
We had a half-orc within the crew as well. Bol'grub was his name. Ugly and stupid, but loyal and always ready for sailing. He was stronger than anything I've seen before. I often challenged him while drunk to games of armwrestling, losing horribly. One time I spiked his drink with a tiny bit of Wyvern Blood we had in our cargo to Luskan, I still didn't manage to beat him. But he was our strongest, our mule. Never speaking much, not more than grunts and howls anyhow. I'm not actually sure if he even spoke common, though he always obeyed the captains commands.
Taking care of the sails and all the small bits of the ship was a man from Waterdeep, Peter Jacob. He was a humorous fellow, always wearing the same leather jacket with a metal plating in the back in a shape of a big V. He used Rapier like a skilled swordsman, using wit the match his opponents. He often trained on the deck, against the mast. At times he got lost into it so deeply, that he didn't stop until the Captain threw a bucket at him and told him to fix it due to it looking like a woodpecker had chewed right through it. But his jokes we're something a man would always laugh to. He was also very keen on teaching more advanced seamanship, the knots, how to properly repair the sails, navigation, upkeep of the hull and so on.
Then there was me. I was doing almost anything on the ship, aiding each of the crewmembers in their tasks. I worked with the sails, the ropes, the carpentry, the navigation, cleaning and cooking. Everything while enjoying some of the best rum the seas have to offer.
I saw the biggest cities of the Sea of Swords in detail, danced with tavern wenches, brawled with other sailors and made a hefty deal of gold. But by Umberlee, I was drunk. Drunk almost constantly. For five years. In 1346 we arrived in Baldur's Gate. I don't remember the exact date, but it was wintertime. We arrived with a shipment of Corn and Magical Apparel to sell, both bought from Waterdeep. We sold the apparel to the Sorcerous Sundries and the Corn to Blade and Stars inn. We decided to spend a night in the Elf Song Tavern, the whole crew, to celebrate the newly gained profits. We drank, we celebrated, I took possibly a bit too much. The Captain had an announcement to make near midnight, and I was shocked. He told the crew we would he was going to retire and make a life at Baldur's Gate. The next captain though, who would gain his vessel, was not at my liking at all. He named the bloody Tiefling as the new head of the ship. My blood boiled, more than ever before. I shouted, first knocked out the old Captain, and then moved onto the bloody Tiefling. I smashed his head with a pint and kicked him in the groin. It took mere seconds as for Bol'grub to react, though. He grabbed me by my hands and kept me still as the captains, old and new, smashed my teeth in, broke my nose, broke my ribs and threw me out of the tavern onto the street.
I laid there in a pool of my own blood for a couple hours until a mercenary of the Flaming Fist came by. He picked me up and threw me out the gate with his merry band, off to the side of the road, by a farm. Apparently I was an ugly sight on the streets. I thought I would die at that spot, each breath I took feeling like my chest would rip apart. Soon I encountered a figure, a priest, that would cast a spell of healing and walk me to the Friendly Arm Inn...
And this is where I pause the story again.. I shall continue later in the evening.
Signed,
Vane
In realms of Mordayn Vapor.. Rollin' DC 16's.. Groovy.
I didn't have time to continue writing last night, due to a trip to Luskan I took. I've been returning there now and then, to pop my face. Not a deathwish, just to to make sure everything's fine on the family side. Dropping them coin if needed, to see how the folks are doing. But let me continue my story..
Chapter 3: Life as an Adventurer
I was carried to the Friendly Arm Inn and my room was paid by the priest. I passed out shortly after. I spent near two weeks just lying in the room, only raising up to use the chamberpot. A feat that filled every joint and muscle, bone and nerve with excruciating pain and agony. Still.. Rather feel the pain rather than lay in there in my own filth, just like I wasn't dirty enough already. I never caught the name of my savior, nor do I remember her face. I only remember her voice. It was soft, caring, seeming nigh angelic. Just like a goddess would've walked me, bearing my pain. To my amazement, none of my four gold pieces had been touched. The priest had paid for my lodging and for my food and care. Bentley Mirrorshade, the keeper of the inn, delivered fresh food for me daily. I ate as much as I could, but the servings we're almost always too much. Fried chicken, pork bacon, mashed potatoes, mushroom soup.. I'd still go there these days if it wouldn't place my life in such jeopardy.
The two weeks swam by slowly and as my wounds turned to scars I started to assess my newfound situation. I was near Baldur's Gate. I had four coins of gold. I had no job anymore, no friends except for a couple merchants down at the merchant's exchange by the docks. I pondered, but the thought of returning to a life of a merchant felt sickening, disgusting. The seas had stolen my heart at this point, and I felt that's where I belong. That's where I yearn. When I was well enough, well enough meaning not coughing up blood and aching like the abyss when moving a finger, I decided to go seek out a job that would pay. I had no weapons, no proper armor, nothing. Just my old flimsy leather jacket and my four gold. As I left the Inn I came across an auctioneer. I felt it crucial I hold something to protect myself, knowing the area's not that safe, so I bought a club for a couple pieces of gold. I tied it onto a piece of rope I had as a belt and continued forward..
I came across a campfire just right next to Friendly Arm Inn, and to my amusement it was filled with the adventuring types. Each of them we're talking about dragons, sorcerers and magics I've never even heard of and couldn't have imagined except in tales of Rogchem back at Luskan. I asked if there we're any work for the likes of me, a sailor without a ship. I was pointed to a graveyard, right next to the Baldur's Gate, just outside of the gates. It apparently had a problem with scores of undead, and a man seeking aid in a ruined temple nearby. I shook my head in disbelief and thought to myself where have I come to. From the life of a seafarer to this.. I didn't know what it was. Anyhow, I took the hint and headed north. The rumours we're true. I was literally stunned when I saw them at first..
A moist mist smelling of dead phlegm and rot filled the air when I stepped into the graveyeard. I took careful steps, seeing parts of bodies fill the ground. Some corpses fresh, some old and rotten, missing arms, legs, eyes, ears, heads.. I took out my club. It was dark, and the mist made it even harder to see. I stepped forward carefully, my old boots crushing bones and stepping of corpses with each motion. Then I saw them, suddenly, just a couple metres in front of me. Two zombie, gargling as if they we're suffocating, shuffling towards me. I was truly shaken with horror, but realized I had to act. I bashed the first ones head in with my club and kicked the other, knocking it back. After I ensured the first zombies head was only a piece of rotten pulp and it wouldn't raise up anymore I charged the other. I hacked its head in similar fashion, but as I was hacking it I heard a stir in the mist. Rattling, multiple bones hitting steel repeatedly.
A skeleton was charging me, with it's lifeless skull and eyesockets gloomy in the dark wretched mist. It held a pick in it's hands. I had no time to wonder where it had gotten it from, for I reacted, I leaped off the corpse of the zombie and charged it head on with my phlegm-soaked club in front of me, striking it with my full body weight. As it's skull was crushed the whole being of it crumbled down to the ground, leaving a scattered being without any joints or cartilage to keep it together. I traveled onwards and found the temple. I saw a flicker of light, torches, lit on the walls, eerily lighting up the mist. I followed a corridor and saw a figure. I lifted my club, thinking it'd be another undead.. But instead I saw a rather eccentric looking man. He explained he was there to collect the parts of the undead, for studying. He would pay immense amount of coin for each batch I delivered him, so without questioning his reasons or motives I rushed to the "kills" I had just scored. I picked up the bones they had and placed them into a satchel. The payment would be extremely good, so I decided to find even more of the wretches to smash.
I found singular undead, aimlessly shuffling in the graveyard, I smashed them and delivered them to the man. After the payment the man had another request, however.. To deliver a letter into the depths of Ruins in the south. I had seen them on my way north, just along the Trade Way. The payment he offered was - yet again - immense, so naturally I agreed. I picked up the pouch filled with gold coins, holstered my phlegm covered club and headed to Baldur's Gate, for I would need supplies if I we're to face danger on my delivery..
This the point where I will stop now, dear reader. The story will go on, for I still have many memories I must unleash into the covers of these tome. But for now.. It is time for wine.
Signed,
Vane
In realms of Mordayn Vapor.. Rollin' DC 16's.. Groovy.
