![[Verified by Crosspatch]](./images/checkmark.png "[Verified by Crosspatch]")
Basic Information
Race: Human, Svefra
Birthday & Age: Winter 58 490 (23 years old)
Gender: Male
Physical Description
Finian, or Ian as he often goes by, stands at 5’9”; and weighs around 165lbs, casually inhabiting a lean, well-muscled body shaped by a life almost entirely spent at sea. Tan, salt-smoothed skin is decorated with more than a smattering of freckles, especially visible across the high cheekbones of his face, his broad shoulders, and his back. Stylized waves in dark blue inked lines churn and swirl their way up his left side from hip to wrist, a few more waves washing up his right arm, with a single sea eagle boldly spreading its wings across the back of his left shoulder, surrounded by the waves that often appear in motion thanks to Laviku's gnosis. His hair is blond with just a sunset-like hint of red, bleached almost platinum from sun and salt, shaved close on both sides and worn long in some messy collection of braids, dreadlocks, loose strands, and sea glass beads, all kept out of his lagoon-blue eyes by some colorful scarf or another. Purposefully or not, he's almost always a few days shy of a fresh shave, pale strawberry blond stubble or a fair bit of beard hiding the hint of a cleft in his chin. He's scarred and calloused from working with wood, fingers stained with paint and tar, skin often coated in sawdust.
Ian's mode of dress is as simple and utterly thoughtless as possible. In warm weather, he wears whatever is in reach: loose, indigo-dyed cotton pants that tie at the knees, a leather half-apron for easy access to his tools, a belt for his knife, a leather vest worn open, at least one colorful scarf, a shiny collection of bracelets and necklaces, and leather sandals only when necessary. Colder weather finds him adding to his daily wardrobe a plain white, long-sleeved cotton shirt under his vest and a charcoal grey wool half-cloak.
Character Concept
Like the sea he was born into, Finian Truewind is always in motion. It's hard to keep the man still, and even harder to keep him focused unless he's working with his hands. His passions are tied close to the sea, tangled up in rigging and sailcloth and wood. A good day is when he makes something that floats. Making things seaworthy is his way of honoring Laviku with his talents; creating something strong in the face of Zulrav's storms is a thanksgiving for their fierceness. That said, he's somewhat of a “city boy,” if such can ever be said of a Svefra, born and raised on the Ancorage Flotilla. Venturing out on his own, away from his family and all that is familiar, and into the open sea has been both exciting and dangerous. While he's curious about other cities that aren't made of boats and float across the Suvan year-round, he also knows that the sea is his home.
He's talkative, sometimes loud, hard to discourage, but easily distracted by smooth curves or strong drink. He has an infectious laugh and an easy smile, but absolutely no concept of personal space, let alone personal property, both of which have often capsized him into a storm of trouble. He has a bad habit of borrowing things that don't appear to be in use and never return them, from unattended drinks at a bar to random keepsakes people might actually miss. This tends to (mostly) unintentionally perpetuate the rampant distrust of his race, as well as land Ian in difficult situations he can't always smile and talk his way out of.
Character History
Finian was born somewhere in the blurry middle of a large family of the Truewind pod on the Ancorage Flotilla. His mother (Verna) was a seamstress, sewing both sails and clothes for trade. His father (Arden), uncle (Rhob), and grandfather (Hieron) all did the same thing: make boats. He grew up surrounded by them anyway: boats as houses, boats as roads, boats as playthings, boats as shops, boats as workplaces. Everywhere were boats that needed fixing, maintaining, decorating, cleaning, building, re-building. Of all his seven siblings, Ian seemed to enjoy the work the most and was eagerly welcomed by his father's side of the family into the trade of sorts. While some of his brothers and sisters found their enjoyment fishing or fighting or singing or sewing, Ian was content to turn wood into beautiful, curved shapes that gracefully traversed the sea so beloved by his people and Laviku himself.
Once he was considered capable of wielding tools—whether he was actually was safe with them or not—his family put him to work. He sat with his mother and sewed sailcloth. He braided rope and made knots and netting with his cousins. He scraped barnacles in the heat of summer. He scrubbed and waxed decks. He patched rotten wood. He arranged ballast belowdecks. He built frames, shaped wet wood into smooth curves, and hammered nails. Of course, he also smashed fingers, swallowed sea water, fell from masts, and other such misadventures in the process, but nothing that didn't turn into a decent enough anecdote or, at the least, a story best told when the embers are growing cold and no one is sober.
He was always a quick study, enjoying the labor, but he was (and still is) easily bored when no longer challenged. He was the kind of youth, unfortunately, that needed to be doing something with his hands to stay out of trouble. Easily distracted and sometimes resistant to mustering the focus needed for a task, Ian always fell back into carving wood or tying knots or painting hulls to find quiet solace. The creative and physical outlet of ship-building was good for him, and his father was hopeful that he could pass on the legacy to the boy. The Flotilla moved from season to season, and Finian was somewhat sheltered from the harshness of Mizaharian life simply by his virtue of being born Svefra and the blessings of Laviku. Each season brought new places to explore, new stories to listen to, new people to meet, new interesting things to "borrow" and forget to return, and new boats to repair and build.
Eventually, his grandfather and uncle moved onto calmer, more distant shores through death, leaving Finian and his father and his older cousin, Aeron, to continue shipwrighting in their footsteps. Ian could still be a nuisance some days and a godsend the next, his lack of discipline often overshadowing his skill and talent. Once his father felt too old to continue some of the more rigorous work, he continued to apprentice both young men, letting them be the calloused hands and strong backs and steady feet to work. Whether or not he purposefully fostered a rivalry is something Ian's father has never admitted, but the two youths regularly began to find ways to out-do each other, often with unexpected consequences. It was, perhaps, acceptable at first, though occasionally the disagreements and rivalry between Ian and Aeron became dangerous or disruptive. Finally, Finian's father thought it best to put his shipwright title into the hands of a single individual in hopes of calming the impending storm.
He chose his nephew over his son, and, obviously, this did not sit well with Ian.
While the reason for such decisions still remains unspoken from Finian's father's lips, it could have simply been to give Ian a chance to grow up, to man up, and to find his focus (something that seemed to be slippery like seagrass to the young man anyway). Their rivalry too strong, Ian soon felt overshadowed by his cousin and passed over by his father. One cold night during a particularly slow winter season just a few days before his 20th birthday, he simply packed up his casinor, kissed his mother and his sisters goodbye, and somewhat reluctantly left the Anchorage Flotilla to see what else there was to see on the Suvan and beyond.
Perhaps there were other shipwrights with new skills to learn from or new ports in need of an eager, steady hand to mend sails and patch hulls. He knew his skills would be useful in any port city, and so he decided he just had to find the right one, so long as he enjoyed himself while on the journey.
And Finian indeed found himself on a journey. For almost a full year, he drifted like flotsam from familiar island to unfamiliar pod, sticking to the inner Suvan, bartering with his skills of shipwrighting and carpentry for other goods and services. He repaired small boats, scraped hulls, and slowly became accustomed to the sea-faring life. He wasn't always the best at directions and still found himself in trouble often enough, but he also discovered he enjoyed the open sea (and even the long stretches of solitude it sometimes required).
Then the djed storm happened. So much changed, so many of his people were lost, and recovery was slow. Finian began to look for his place in the aftermath, and found that offering his boat repair services on the open sea, far from any dock, often proved more valuable than expected. While there were obvious limitations, the tragedy of the storm has given him a chance to make a modest enough living while being useful. Over the past year since the storm, Ian has refused to return home and check on his family, however, whether out of fear or lingering anger or both.
Training (Skills, Arcana, Gnosis, Lore)
50 Starting Points (SP) + 10 Racial Bonus Points (RB)
Skills:
Arcana:
N/A
Lore:
Lore of Small Boat Repair
Lore of the Anchorage Flotilla
Gnosis:
Oceanus, 1 Mark (Svefra SP)
Languages:
Fluent: Fratava
Intermediate: Common
Equipment and Possessions:
Ledger
Thread List
Race: Human, Svefra
Birthday & Age: Winter 58 490 (23 years old)
Gender: Male
Physical Description
Finian, or Ian as he often goes by, stands at 5’9”; and weighs around 165lbs, casually inhabiting a lean, well-muscled body shaped by a life almost entirely spent at sea. Tan, salt-smoothed skin is decorated with more than a smattering of freckles, especially visible across the high cheekbones of his face, his broad shoulders, and his back. Stylized waves in dark blue inked lines churn and swirl their way up his left side from hip to wrist, a few more waves washing up his right arm, with a single sea eagle boldly spreading its wings across the back of his left shoulder, surrounded by the waves that often appear in motion thanks to Laviku's gnosis. His hair is blond with just a sunset-like hint of red, bleached almost platinum from sun and salt, shaved close on both sides and worn long in some messy collection of braids, dreadlocks, loose strands, and sea glass beads, all kept out of his lagoon-blue eyes by some colorful scarf or another. Purposefully or not, he's almost always a few days shy of a fresh shave, pale strawberry blond stubble or a fair bit of beard hiding the hint of a cleft in his chin. He's scarred and calloused from working with wood, fingers stained with paint and tar, skin often coated in sawdust.
Ian's mode of dress is as simple and utterly thoughtless as possible. In warm weather, he wears whatever is in reach: loose, indigo-dyed cotton pants that tie at the knees, a leather half-apron for easy access to his tools, a belt for his knife, a leather vest worn open, at least one colorful scarf, a shiny collection of bracelets and necklaces, and leather sandals only when necessary. Colder weather finds him adding to his daily wardrobe a plain white, long-sleeved cotton shirt under his vest and a charcoal grey wool half-cloak.
Character Concept
Like the sea he was born into, Finian Truewind is always in motion. It's hard to keep the man still, and even harder to keep him focused unless he's working with his hands. His passions are tied close to the sea, tangled up in rigging and sailcloth and wood. A good day is when he makes something that floats. Making things seaworthy is his way of honoring Laviku with his talents; creating something strong in the face of Zulrav's storms is a thanksgiving for their fierceness. That said, he's somewhat of a “city boy,” if such can ever be said of a Svefra, born and raised on the Ancorage Flotilla. Venturing out on his own, away from his family and all that is familiar, and into the open sea has been both exciting and dangerous. While he's curious about other cities that aren't made of boats and float across the Suvan year-round, he also knows that the sea is his home.
He's talkative, sometimes loud, hard to discourage, but easily distracted by smooth curves or strong drink. He has an infectious laugh and an easy smile, but absolutely no concept of personal space, let alone personal property, both of which have often capsized him into a storm of trouble. He has a bad habit of borrowing things that don't appear to be in use and never return them, from unattended drinks at a bar to random keepsakes people might actually miss. This tends to (mostly) unintentionally perpetuate the rampant distrust of his race, as well as land Ian in difficult situations he can't always smile and talk his way out of.
Character History
Finian was born somewhere in the blurry middle of a large family of the Truewind pod on the Ancorage Flotilla. His mother (Verna) was a seamstress, sewing both sails and clothes for trade. His father (Arden), uncle (Rhob), and grandfather (Hieron) all did the same thing: make boats. He grew up surrounded by them anyway: boats as houses, boats as roads, boats as playthings, boats as shops, boats as workplaces. Everywhere were boats that needed fixing, maintaining, decorating, cleaning, building, re-building. Of all his seven siblings, Ian seemed to enjoy the work the most and was eagerly welcomed by his father's side of the family into the trade of sorts. While some of his brothers and sisters found their enjoyment fishing or fighting or singing or sewing, Ian was content to turn wood into beautiful, curved shapes that gracefully traversed the sea so beloved by his people and Laviku himself.
Once he was considered capable of wielding tools—whether he was actually was safe with them or not—his family put him to work. He sat with his mother and sewed sailcloth. He braided rope and made knots and netting with his cousins. He scraped barnacles in the heat of summer. He scrubbed and waxed decks. He patched rotten wood. He arranged ballast belowdecks. He built frames, shaped wet wood into smooth curves, and hammered nails. Of course, he also smashed fingers, swallowed sea water, fell from masts, and other such misadventures in the process, but nothing that didn't turn into a decent enough anecdote or, at the least, a story best told when the embers are growing cold and no one is sober.
He was always a quick study, enjoying the labor, but he was (and still is) easily bored when no longer challenged. He was the kind of youth, unfortunately, that needed to be doing something with his hands to stay out of trouble. Easily distracted and sometimes resistant to mustering the focus needed for a task, Ian always fell back into carving wood or tying knots or painting hulls to find quiet solace. The creative and physical outlet of ship-building was good for him, and his father was hopeful that he could pass on the legacy to the boy. The Flotilla moved from season to season, and Finian was somewhat sheltered from the harshness of Mizaharian life simply by his virtue of being born Svefra and the blessings of Laviku. Each season brought new places to explore, new stories to listen to, new people to meet, new interesting things to "borrow" and forget to return, and new boats to repair and build.
Eventually, his grandfather and uncle moved onto calmer, more distant shores through death, leaving Finian and his father and his older cousin, Aeron, to continue shipwrighting in their footsteps. Ian could still be a nuisance some days and a godsend the next, his lack of discipline often overshadowing his skill and talent. Once his father felt too old to continue some of the more rigorous work, he continued to apprentice both young men, letting them be the calloused hands and strong backs and steady feet to work. Whether or not he purposefully fostered a rivalry is something Ian's father has never admitted, but the two youths regularly began to find ways to out-do each other, often with unexpected consequences. It was, perhaps, acceptable at first, though occasionally the disagreements and rivalry between Ian and Aeron became dangerous or disruptive. Finally, Finian's father thought it best to put his shipwright title into the hands of a single individual in hopes of calming the impending storm.
He chose his nephew over his son, and, obviously, this did not sit well with Ian.
While the reason for such decisions still remains unspoken from Finian's father's lips, it could have simply been to give Ian a chance to grow up, to man up, and to find his focus (something that seemed to be slippery like seagrass to the young man anyway). Their rivalry too strong, Ian soon felt overshadowed by his cousin and passed over by his father. One cold night during a particularly slow winter season just a few days before his 20th birthday, he simply packed up his casinor, kissed his mother and his sisters goodbye, and somewhat reluctantly left the Anchorage Flotilla to see what else there was to see on the Suvan and beyond.
Perhaps there were other shipwrights with new skills to learn from or new ports in need of an eager, steady hand to mend sails and patch hulls. He knew his skills would be useful in any port city, and so he decided he just had to find the right one, so long as he enjoyed himself while on the journey.
And Finian indeed found himself on a journey. For almost a full year, he drifted like flotsam from familiar island to unfamiliar pod, sticking to the inner Suvan, bartering with his skills of shipwrighting and carpentry for other goods and services. He repaired small boats, scraped hulls, and slowly became accustomed to the sea-faring life. He wasn't always the best at directions and still found himself in trouble often enough, but he also discovered he enjoyed the open sea (and even the long stretches of solitude it sometimes required).
Then the djed storm happened. So much changed, so many of his people were lost, and recovery was slow. Finian began to look for his place in the aftermath, and found that offering his boat repair services on the open sea, far from any dock, often proved more valuable than expected. While there were obvious limitations, the tragedy of the storm has given him a chance to make a modest enough living while being useful. Over the past year since the storm, Ian has refused to return home and check on his family, however, whether out of fear or lingering anger or both.
Training (Skills, Arcana, Gnosis, Lore)
50 Starting Points (SP) + 10 Racial Bonus Points (RB)
Skills:
| Skill | EXP | Total | Proficiency |
| Carpentry | 5 SP | 5 | Novice |
| Swimming | 5 SP | 5 | Novice |
| Wilderness Survival: Suvan Sea | 5 SP | 5 | Novice |
| Shipwrighting | 15 SP | 15 | Novice |
| Sailing | 10 RB, 20 SP | 30 | Competent |
Arcana:
N/A
Lore:
Lore of Small Boat Repair
Lore of the Anchorage Flotilla
Gnosis:
Oceanus, 1 Mark (Svefra SP)
Languages:
Fluent: Fratava
Intermediate: Common
Equipment and Possessions:
Clothing
- Indigo-dyed, loose cotton pants (SP)
- Vest, leather (1gm)
- Shirt, cotton (SP)
- Sandals, leather (SP)
- Half-cape, wool (SP)
- Scarf (x4) (4sm)
- Apron, leather (6sm)
- Belt, leather (4sm)
Equipment
- Axe, Carpenter's (1gm)
- Axe, Carving (1gm)
- Adze (7sm)
- Backpack, leather (SP)
- Brush, whalebone (SP)
- Comb, whalebone (SP)
- Eating Knife, whalebone (SP)
- Flint & Steel (SP)
- Razor (SP)
- Soap (SP)
- Sewing Kit, for sails (18gm)
- Toolkit, Shipwright (35gm)
- Toolkit, Artists for painting (25gm)
- Hammock (5gm)
Consumables
- Waterskin (SP)
- 2 weeks of rations (SP + 5gm)
- 25 lbs of miscellaneous lumber (6gm)
Heirloom
Heirloom (50gm) - Toolkit, Woodcarver's (from his grandfather)
Housing
Casinor, The Handmaden, a ship he built for himself with his father and grandfather as a teen.
Tavan
Waverly, an albino sea otter. It wasn't until Ian left the Flotilla that he found himself with a tavan, so little Waves is still a young pup. This will probably be a Flashback to be filled in later.
Ledger
Pre-Creation
Total pre-creation purchases: 98 gm, 1 sm
Fall 513
Fall 513: 1 gm, 9 sm
Thread List
Flashbacks
Insert post list here.
Fall 513
Insert post list here.
