Skull and Shackles
The most exciting part of my trip so far was today, when I finally saw the sea.
I was born by the sea—my mother is from there originally—but I don’t remember the sea. We moved inland not long after I was born. My mother says that we spent a couple years trying to be house-help for some nobles or working in the fields, but the only home I’ve ever known was the monastery. They took us in as an act of charity, but my mother decided to stay and serve the holy order.
I started out helping her wash the floors and dishes, but the monks took a shine to me and began to groom me to someday join the order. Sure, I did fine with the meditation and veneration and all that, but what I really took to was the combat! Under the tutelage of the monks, I learned how to control my body and focus my energy. The monks taught me that the agile body and focused mind could be stronger protection than any armor.
I had every intention of joining the orders, but all that changed on my 17th birthday. I was coming back from a supply run with monk César when the rickety bridge we were crossing collapsed. César managed to swim free but he couldn’t see me and presumed I was gone. He returned the next day with a few other monks to attempt to recover my body, but instead found me, trapped but still living, in the current.
Even after they hauled me out, I had every intention of joining the order, but the other brothers wouldn’t stand for it. I was clearly meant for something greater. My mother revealed the truth—my father was mer. She showed me an artifact she’d kept hidden from me all of these years.
My father’s trident, a nearly glowing, lightweight piece of deadly metal, inscribed with all sorts of ancient runes and figures which even the wisest monks couldn’t read. This, everyone agreed, was my destiny—to find out the story of my heritage, and hopefully, my father.
They pointed me here, to Port Peril, knowing that it’d be the most likely place for me to find someone to translate my harpoon and put me on the path to finding out who I really am.