Orias

[Orias]

Appearance

Name: Orias
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Race: Human
Height: 1.85m (6'1")
Weight: 86kg (190lbs)

Origin: Ravok
DOB: 82 Winter 494 AV
Current Residence: Ravok
Occupation: Sailor/crewman


Fluent: Common
Conversational: Fratava

Orias is the sort of man who is more than happy to blend into the crowd; although slightly taller than average, he rarely stands at his full height, preferring to lean against anything in his vicinity, and has an equally average build kept lean and somewhat toned from an active life aboard a merchant ship. This life has seen his hands grow calloused and his long, slim fingers peppered with nicks and faint scars.

In keeping with this theme, his lightly tanned skin, broad shoulders and narrow hips are often masked beneath ill-fitted - yet comfortable - clothing of equally average quality. He is not the sort to be adventurous with textiles or colours, instead preferring to stick to a rather drab palette - one that has an uncanny resemblance to the uniform worn by those belonging to the Commorancy. His shirts are generally a few shades lighter than his pants, sleeves regularly rolled up and out of the way and pant legs tucked haphazardly into dark, beat-to-Hai boots.

His peculiar dark grey, deep-set eyes look like pieces of jet within his angular face no matter the lighting and contrast sharply with his pale, unruly curls. With the darkest shades a warm, summery wheat and the lightest nearing a flaxen white, Orias' hair is likely the only aspect of him - apart from his eyes - that might actually draw unwanted attention. Wild if left untouched, he does his best to keep it short in a bid to keep it manageable, especially through the warmer seasons. He does have a habit of allowing it to grow out during winter, taming it with fingers before tying it back in a leather throng once its long enough to do so.

To Orias, practicality is paramount. As someone who spends his days aboard a ship heaving lines and manoeuvring around other equally busy bodies, he is a simple man with little care for ornamentation or material possessions. The three copper rings he does own - worn in no particular pattern but, rather, on whatever fingers they fit on the day - are only worn when off the ship. By day, they are either kept within his belt pouch or on a piece of twine, cloth or leather throng if any cross his path and worn from his neck.

 

Tattoos

Compass rose over left pec

 

Scars

Date

Description

 

Injuries

Date

Description

 

Misc

Date

Description

[Orias]

Personality

Quick to flash a grin and share a laugh, Orias' easy manner and natural warmth means he is rarely without company. He is a social person who values companionship and, although not a textbook extrovert, it's not unusual for him to seek it out if it doesn't automatically come to him. He enjoys light and playful conversation, rarely delving into anything too deep, and his relationships reflect this. He's not one to go out of his way to maintain bonds, let alone forge anything deep with others outside what is necessary to achieve common goals, making it so his affable nature - although genuine - occasionally seems superficial or trite. Although well-meaninged, it's easy enough to realise he isn't one to confide or trust others, preferring more to keep most at a friendly arms length.

At his core, Orias is a curious and dedicated individual. Honest, hardworking and practical in the ways he approaches things, he isn't one to stop once he takes it upon himself to do something, following through no matter the cost. It's not unusual for him to put tasks - and others - above himself and his welfare.. often to disastrous effects. This habit of fixating on things internally often clashes with his otherwise adaptable nature yet his carefree air tends to disguise this intensity.

In the end, he is a lesson in duality: an adventurous free-spirit who thrives on structure.

History

Unintentionally mysterious, Orias never knew of his parentage or what led to him being dropped off at the Commorancy as a squalling newborn. None of the staff bothered to fill him with stories or tales of some made up reasoning behind it; instead, any questioning – once he did grow bold and curious enough to ask – was met with, at best, a shrug of the shoulders or a condescending pat on his unruly mop of hair. And so this question sat idle and unattended, the youth revisiting it occasionally until he merely put it behind him at the age of twelve.

He would be his own person, he decided.

It was a mantra he chose to live by from that point forward, favouring freedom and the opportunity to forge his own path devoid of the weight that this unknown past could put on him. He had always been independent – and, perhaps, a bit unruly – so this thought process came naturally. Orias found he preferred to remain untethered and, although pleasant and friendly and good at working within a team towards a common goal, he made little effort to forge deep or meaningful relationships with his peers or staff as a result.

He was an average student, excelling only in areas where he could physically apply himself. His zeal and self-centric nature was unwelcomed, however, and he eventually found himself having to regularly forgo his cherished outdoor time for that spent within a drab room being reminded of the importance of Rhysol and the need to spread his message and live for Ravok rather than oneself. He took these sessions on the chin and, with time, they eventually sunk in just as he reached the age in which he'd dedicate himself to one of the three Orders.

It was around this time when a man showed up at the Commorancy looking for prospective youths to take on as a ward. Freshly fifteen with a head full of Ravokian propaganda, Orias found himself draw to the man, especially when the man introduced himself as a member of the Lark family. To a boy who had only heard tales of the five families of Ravok - the pinnacles of Ravokian society, he couldn't think of a better opportunity and he was beside himself when the man took him on.

However, the experience was not what he expected. Although he did receive some grooming and was shown a glimpse of the family's operations, he had little chance to enjoy any of it... instead, he was thrust into the shadows and made to pass along information between the man and his many informants. Occasionally, he even found himself tested by the man, made to come up with his own intelligence and information. It was a world of smoke and mirrors, of shady dealings and things he rather wished he hadn't seen, and it led him to realise not everything was what it seemed.

This 'internship' lasted exactly one quarter of the season. It felt like years.

To this day, Orias is not truly sure what led to his dismissal and has, with time, simply chalked it up to a culmination of a number of things – some he could have avoided and others that were completely out of his hands. In the end, it was mostly an act of self-sabotage that led to him changing to the more common Business Order.

His brief tenure under the wing of the Larks exposed him to trade upon Lake Ravok and it was there he felt the pull to return: something about the dark, glittering waters called to him. It was on a particularly auspicious day that he happened to be loitering around the docks, looking for potential work when he became reacquainted with a captain he had only briefly brushed elbows with previously. This man was Yorrin Vannis, the owner of a cargo Saique, and the man took him on board to trial for a handful of days before officially claiming the youth as his ward.

And so began the greatest adventure of his life.

He truly grew into himself on that ship, learning the ins and outs of sailing and life - in general - under the guiding hand of his Guardian. He found peace in working himself to the bone, joy in finding purpose learning the ways of the ship and how to sail her.. as well finding something as close to a family as he had ever had amongst her crew. He was not the first ward Captain Vannis had taken under his wing and a sense of camaraderie that he never had before grew from these mutual beginnings. For the first time in his life, Orias finally felt like he truly belonged.

Adding to this was the bond he had with his Captain. The scarred and half-mad man taught him Fratava and personally oversaw much of his training, effectively filling a void Orias had never allowed himself to acknowledge existed. It caused that question to stir within him again and his curious nature worried at it like a dog with a bone. Although he had found someone that played the closest thing to a fatherly role, he couldn't help wonder who his birth parents were.

This question was dashed momentarily once Captain Vannis' health took a turn, Orias' world turning upside down once the man died. However, words spoken on the man's deathbed - a confusing mess of an apology and barely coherent ramblings, along with a crossbow bearing a singular name, saw Orias on a hunt for answers once more. Armed with but breadcrumbs and distracted by a crew at odds with their new Captain, everything feels so close... yet just out of reach.

[Orias]

Skills

Skill	RB	SP	EXP	Total	Proficiency
Sailing	15	11		26	Competent
Bodybuilding		5		5	Novice
Endurance		5		5	Novice
Intelligence		5		5	Novice
Navigation, Water		9		9	Novice
Weapon: Crossbow, Light		10		10	Novice
Wilderness Survival: Forest		5		5	Novice

Resolve score (27) :

Resolve Breakdown

Player Character			26
Endurance (Novice)			1
Total			27

Lores

 

Misc

⚬ Lore of Ravok Culture ˢᵖ
⚬ Lore of Lake Ravok Trade Routes ˢᵖ

[Orias]

Possessions

Clothing & Footwear:

Linen shirt, gray ˢᵖ
Linen shirt, white
Coarse wool tunic, slate
Linen pants, black ˢᵖ
Coarse wool trousers, undyed
Basic undergarments ˢᵖ
Coarse wool coat, undyed ˢᵖ
Leather boots, black ˢᵖ
Coarse wool cap, undyed
Coarse wool scarf, charcoal
Coarse wool socks (stockings)
Fur-lined leather gloves

Accessories:

Rings, copper (3)
Belt, black
Pouch, belt
Alligator tooth necklace*

Armor & Weapons:

Leather armor, black
Dagger
Scabbard, dagger
Crossbow bolts (20)
Quiver

Grooming:

Mirror, small steel
Wooden comb ˢᵖ
Wooden brush ˢᵖ
Soap ˢᵖ
Razor ˢᵖ

Misc:

Backpack ˢᵖ
Waterskin ˢᵖ
Rations, one week ˢᵖ
Eating knife ˢᵖ
Flint and steel ˢᵖ
Rope, hemp (50ft)
Flask, 8oz

Heirloom

A light crossbow gifted to him by his former captain, guardian and father-figure, Yorrin Vannis. The wood is well worn - a testament to its old age - yet it is mechanically sound and well cared for. There is a small bit of engraving on the left side of the tiller - a name Yorrin felt was important enough to carve into the wood before passing it on to Orias - yet age and wear has smoothed it to the point that it is nearly illegible.

[Orias]

Employment

Employer	The Whailer
Occupation	Able bodied sailor/crewman
Wage	10gm/d (900gm/s) (pending!)

The Whailer is a merchant Saique crewed by ten men including its current Captain, Cyrel Tlezzano. Previously owned and Captained by Orias' late guardian and mentor, Yorrin Vannis, The Whailer offers transport services to merchants wishing to ship goods across Lake Ravok between the Lakeshore and Ravok city.

Ledger

Purchase	Cost	Total
Starting package		100gm
Housing cash-in	+ 500gm	600gm
Quiver	- 20gm	580gm
Leather armor	- 10gm	570gm
Mirror, small steel	- 10gm	560gm
Crossbow bolts (20)	- 2gm	558gm
Dagger	- 2gm	556gm
Scabbard, dagger	- 2gm	554gm
Belt pouch	- 1gm	553gm
Belt	- 2sm	552gm 8sm
Cap, coarse wool	- 1sm	552gm 7sm
Rings, copper (3)	- 9cm	552gm 6sm 1cm
Ale & shirt	- 1sm 9cm	552gm 4sm 2cm
Quest items	- 15gm 9sm	536gm 5sm 2cm

Housing

Location Ravok
Lifestyle Common
Housing Having grown up within the Commorancy as an orphan, one would image Orias would want a home to call his own. Yet his strong sense of independence - nurtured further by his years spent on Lake Ravok - has instilled in him a love for impermanence. To him, stability is the antithesis of chaos and, thus, Orias has chosen to forgo housing in favour of renting, often changing between Ravok and the Lakeshore every few seasons. At current, he rents a poor room at Tarsin's Boarding House, the interior showing no signs that the young man has made any attempts to personalise it or make it 'home'.

[Orias]

Persons of Interest

Name: Yorrin Icebreaker Vannis
Race: Human, Svefra
Date of Birth: 81 Spring 459 AV
Origin: North Sebakem Ocean
Date of Death: 73 Spring 519 AV
Relation/Title: Former Guardian/Captain of The Whailer
Gnosis: 1 Mark Oceanus
Additional Info: Hailing from an old and failing pod that called the cold northern stretch of ocean between Novallas and Mura home, Yorrin's arrival in Ravok was unintended. A particularly brutal storm battered the few ships that remained, sending them crashing onto the rocky and equally brutal shoreline near what is now the site of the Northern Outpost's unused Harbour. Few survived the wreckage and, of those that did, only two managed to survive the trek south to the lakeshore: Yorrin and his wife and Lia, Vanys. The days that followed saw Yorrin lose his left forearm and his wife, Vanys succumbing to her injuries after three days of fighting. Alone and in a foreign place where not even Laviku would answer him, the old man struggled to recover. But recover he did.

Grateful to those who saved him, he chose to keep to the Lakeshore and did his best to help in whatever manner he could as retribution. He eventually mastered the Common tongue and the ways in which the Ravokians approached things. After two years working along the Lakeshore, Yorrin finally discovered Ravok the city.

He observed the politics and absorbed the manner in which things were done. Having previous experience aiding and assisting merchant ships that travelled the Novallas route, he eventually saw an opportunity on the lake to do something similar.

No stranger to dark humour – having already taken a version of his late wife's name as his own 'Ravokian' surname, he gathered a small crew to make the trip back out to the same rocky shore where his whole world had ended. He had his crew salvage as much of the wood from the wrecks as they could and then returned to the shipyard to have a cargo Saique constructed.

He dubbed it 'The Whailer' due to the sounds the creaky ship made – sounds he swore it made because it was on a lake rather than the sea – and began to ply his trade ferrying cargo – both goods and slaves - shortly thereafter in the Fall of 481 AV. It grew into a serious business over the next twenty years and, although Yorrin had a loyal crew, he often took it upon himself to take on the odd ward from the Commorancy when one presented themselves as a good fit.

He was a warm yet stern guardian and captain, yet not without his fair share of quirks and flaws. Most who knew him enjoyed his company, even as age and the long term effects of his injuries began to gnaw away at both his body and mind.

He died as he lived – on the water between fits of madness in early 519 AV.

[Orias]

Thread List

Date	Title	Status	Rewards
80-?? Summer 519	[Quest] Ripple Me This	Active
4 Fall 519	[Lakeshore] Tethered	Active
80 Fall 519	Flash of the Blade	Active