NAME: Thomas Marston
AGE: 54
POSITION: THE VALIANT FIRST MATE
TITLE: The Old Sea Dog
COLOR: "I'm in my golden years, and yet I still sail the seas."
APPEARANCE: He's a rough looking old man that has probably seen violence plenty of times judging by the scars and clouded left eye on the wrinkly seadogs face. His hair is as pale as a ghost, and thick like a mushroom tree (whatever the fuck that be); he's got mutton chops that are the size of a "ship's mast" that connect into a chin curtain. His crooked rows of teeth are stained with years of sea breeze and tobacco. Standing at average height the ole' bastard may have some fight in him left.
ARMOR: A stab prove vest under his first mate getup, steel-toed boots
LIKES: "I'm an old bastard that likes the smell o' da' sea, a good brew in me belly, and a nice crew that actually fookin' listens to their superiors. Oh and treasure lads.[/i]"
DISLIKES: "Well for starters I've never been a big fan o' dem magic users, too many a time has a sailor fallen in love wit' dem witches and lost dere' souls I tell ya'. Also does' elritch monsters skeeve me out just tinking' bout'em. What else... uhhh, oh does' basterds that don' know how to listen to their capn's tats' whats wrong wit' tis generation o' sailors. I might also have a hatred towards' dem powedered wigs up in dem towns, always having their noses so high that you could mistook'em for a mountain. HAR! HAR! HAR!"
FEARS: "BAH! A sailor never fears death! But he be having a death wish if he were to not fear what lurks deep beneath dem' waves; whether it be monsters, cursed treasure, or some spook story comin' true. Aye've gotta tell ya' lad, it ain't pretty seeing a man being ripped to shreds by someting' you can't be seeing. Arrr...."
BACK STORY:((Not really going to fill this out, but I'll put some highlights and some of his starting motivation)) [Escaped from his families estate being burned down] [Joins up to be apart of the Royal Navy] [After a year of service is captured by pirates] [Thomas overthrows the pirate captain after staging a revolt] [As the new enacting captain leads a life of adventure] [After gaining plenty of experience and time settles down for a bit with his swag] [Many years pass and the loot is running dry, his wife left him and his daughter has taken a liking to being a brothel maid.] [With nowhere left to go, and feeling his time on this planet is reaching its end agrees to take up being the First Mate with his new found crew (YOU GUYS)]
PURPOSE: "I got notin' left to me name, my wife ran off with some wig, my daughter has become a whore, and I might as well go on one last adventure."
GREATEST DESIRE: "To live out my grandest adventure yet as yer' first mate. That and if we actually do make it back, retire with what little treasure we might make."
WHAT WOULD YOU GIVE...: "Anything I got left really, and that ain't much but me cutlass, the clothes on me back, and my soul."
SANITY: ||||||||||
HEALTH: ||||||||||
INVENTORY:
-Hip flask with fancy engravings on it that shape into some obscure family crest. Normally filled with rum or some other hard liquor.
-A cutlass that probably looked regal at one point judging by the faded and scratched gold, the blade itself has been worn down by the general wear and tear of the salty sea air; it is a warped opaque green with a few spots of discolored metal and dried splotches of blood. While the edges of the blade are jagged at the tip, it hasn't dulled, according to Thomas an old nun blessed the blade at one point; but even he says its probably a load of whale-sh!t. The hilt has various engravings of sea dragons and octopus men, they're mostly covered by a leather strap grip that Thomas tied around the handle.
-A pocket watch with a artist's rendition of a young Thomas and his family, it appears that the clock is either busted or synced up with another time zone.
-Matchbox with a box of rolled fine tobacco cigars. Thomas said he bought it in some foreign port many tides ago, never smoked them and actually forgot about them until he was packing is stuff.
-General luggage containing clothes, personal effects, and other such bobbles and trinkets. (Kept in his cabin)
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