Fishkers

Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=srN1GsnBui8

On the pious St. Roe Isle, Fishkers was hatched to a rather wealthy church family. Despite his easy upbringing due to the wealth of his household, he did not see himself thriving there due to his cynicism towards the religious practices his parents forced upon him as soon as he could speak.

On his fourth birthday, another child was bestowed to the family, a girl the parents named Vetula, whom Fishkers quickly grew to dislike as his parents stopped caring as much about him. As they aged, his dislike turned to hatred as she has proven to be much more receptive of their teachings, resulting in even less parental affection. 

His school life wasn't much fulfilling either, he wasn't a target of bullying, but rather avoided due to being 'the rich kid', and his teachers weren't much fond of him due to his disinterest in the faith.

At fifteen, he began sneaking into the library during the night, stumbling upon forbidden texts and learning of the heresies of his family's religion. Invocations to the sea, a great sin in their church, was claimed to answer the calls of the worshipper, as the cost of life of another being, as not offering anything to the sea would result in the one praying suffering the sacrifice. Fishkers was intrigued. He wanted to see for himself, as he saw the prayers of the church as nothing but a nuisance, this one might yield something. After a fortnight of studies, he changed his routine for the night, instead of the library, he made his way to a beach, a beetle he intended for sacrifice in his pouch. He arrived to the beach and picked up a sharp flint rock. slicing his finger. He winced, but continued, kneeling down in the wet sand as the waves caressed his thighs, he took the bettle from his pouch and dipped it into the water with his uncut hand and uttered: "I call upon thee, salt seas of vast," He dipped his finger into the water "mend my cut with your gentle hands". Fishkers felt a sharp, burning pain in his cut and yelped, falling back, cursing himself for being naive, saltwater on wounds hurts but- the cut was no more. The beetle was floating on the surface, lifeless. Fishkers believed.

He practiced more minor invocations in the following years, learning what he could and could not do, and upon reaching seventeen, Fishkers publicly announced that he is a practitioner of the sea heresy in hopes of likeminded underground groups on the isle contacting him. This greatly stained his family name and caused a massive split between Fishkers and his house. Even worse, he had found out that likeminded people were not present on the isle. It was pure. Instead of hints towards a secret society that he listened out for, he only received insults and beatings on the streets.

When he reached eighteen, his parents threw him out of the house into the said streets. He was broken, having only his heretic knowledge to help him survive, snatching and sacrificing critters to mend his bruises. He fortunately managed to find employment as an assistant on a fishing sloop, his employer only asking of him to board in secret as to not tarnish his name as well. Despite the work being difficult, it prevented him from starving.

Three years pass of Fishkers sleeping in the woods or the streets, he grew tired of such a life and looked for ways to escape his predicament, and fortunately enough, the owner of the vessel he worked on decided to sell it. Fishkers saw the opportunity, he did not have the coin but he knew how to obtain it.

He waited for nightfall in the shadows near his old home, and snuck in when he was sure everyone was asleep. He knew where his father kept a coffer with the family's wealth, he tiptoed over and fiddled with the lock, quietly breaking it open. He stuffed his pockets and pouches with as much coin as they could carry and as he was about to turn, he heard a sound that made his ears perk up- the rasp of a blade sliding from its scabbard. 

He immediately turned and raised his arm to parry the blow and his palm was immediately pierced- a non-lethal blow, and his attacker's weapon stuck in his hand. 

It was his sister, Vetula.

Both of them were shocked at the sight of each other, Fishkers quickly pulled the dagger out of his hand and thrust it into his sister's throat, and swiftly ran off, leaving her to bleed and silently gargle. His steps were silent, but quick, he had to leave that evening. He went to the fisherman's home and knocked on the door, after a brief lack of response, he shoved the door in, the rotting hinges cracking and breaking, announcing his entrance. The worn fisherman was already on the way to the door as it broke down in front of him. Fishkers quickly apologized for the door and immediately offered the gold from his pouches to the old man, both for the door and the ship. The old-timer unquestionably accepted and handed him the deed for the vessel, and Fishkers stormed off to the docks, untying the hawsers from the cleats of the dock, jumping onto the drifting sloop, and lowering the sails. Fishkers was well on his way to the open ocean, but not a minute had passed since his undocking when he heard bells from the isle. Alarm bells. The wind was not on his side as two vessels undocked and headed in his direction, whom were quick to catch up.

Fishkers panicked, he knew he would surely face death for the murder of his sister. As he was about to adjust his vessel to sail with the wind, he heard a crack. His pursuers had hooked a trident into his hull and were pulling him in, although he still had time to dislodge it and catch the wind, when a cannon shot ringed out from the second vessel, their chainshot had wrapped to his only mast and cracked it in half. He had no more mobility, he was desperate.

He knelt in front of his rudder, raised his arms to his sides and shouted: "I call upon the ocean brine to protect me from my pursuers, and lead me far from this forsaken land!" and after a brief pause, he continued: "And I call upon the creatures of the sea, to capsize my would-be captors as a gift for my request!"

He did not want to end more lives as he escaped, but he decided to live with the guilt, only being thankful if he survives the encounter.

After a brief rumble of water, tentacles roared out of the sea and slammed themselves onto each of the pursuing ships, wood and crewmembers falling into the water from the impacts. The ships began getting dragged down into the depths, but Fishkers' ship also began to dive, bow-first, quickly submerging itself. Fishkers did not believe his eyes as he saw barnacles form on the cracks on his ship, as if they were repairing it. But suddenly, one of the people in the water caught his eye. His father had been thrown into the water close enough to his ship for him to recognize. He was missing an arm and seems to have already drowned. Fishkers contemplated whether he should attempt to save him, but his ship had already begun accelerating underwater, he quickly lost sight of his father and the wrecks. The quietude of the ocean drowned his thoughts out for a minute as he took in the sights of the reefs and slopes that he passed by with great haste. The sights became a blur as the speed increased, and in a blink- his ship was ascending to the surface. Like a whale, the vessel jumped out of the water and splashed as it landed back into it. The sun was rising, and the ship was headed towards and unknown landmass. Fishkers stared into the sun as tears welled up in his eyes, he collapsed to his knees.

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Name: Fishkers

Age: 23

APPEARANCE:

Height: 6'1

Eyes: Golden yellow (up until 15) Orange (15 and onward) Red (When using incantations)

Hair: Blonde, shaved on the sides, short on top and a pony tail.

Small fins on both sides of his neck

Scar on the palm and dorsal side of his right hand.

APPAREL:

Thigh-length black coat with red undertones

Belt-up calf-high boots

Black scapular, with an inverted cross at the neck collar, white shirt underneath.

Worn leather trousers.