[b]Name:[/b] Captain Coello “Redeye” Vivari [b]Rank:[/b] Revenant Minor. Perhaps Coello could once have been called a “major”, but the stalling of the war at sea has greatly diminished his authority. Not that he particularly cares. [hider=Physical Description] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/590239966395891730/796843003837677619/unknown.png[/img] By the time Old Captain Coel’s body had been retrieved from his watery grave, his skin had turned a sickening shade of blue. His waterlogged corpse had to be dried out and partially rebuilt before being reanimated. His body is incredibly gaunt, and his skin is torn in a few places revealing bone and sinew underneath. Coello has a red gem in his right eye that seems to light up whenever the captain gets particularly animated. He wears a large tricornered captain’s hat and an old, raggedy, slightly torn blue naval uniform complete with a cuirass. These are the colours of the Republic of Davari, one of the many realms of the living which holds the undead empire back with its massive naval fleet. He completes his wardrobe with a sturdy leather belt and a pair of torn cotton pants tucked into brown leather boots. He always seems to be smiling, though it’s hard to tell considering his almost skeletal nature. In place of his left hand, there is an old metal contraption like a claw. As you approach, he gets up... and extends a clawed hand in a friendly fashion. [/hider] [hider=Background] [i]Nice ta’ meet ya, landlubber! I hear ye wanted to know a bit more Ol’ Captain Coel! First, ye ought to know that I’m the toughest captain this side ‘o the Seven Seas! Weren’t no captain as tough or as brave! Always itchin’ for a fight, sailing around the world with a thirst for adventure, huntin’ pirates... huntin’ undead too, matter ‘o fact. I was a proud member of the wooden wall which protected the realms of the living. Or at least I was, ‘till my ship were blown up by one ‘o Eagoth’s mages. That was the peak of the War of the Walking Corpses, we called it back then. Vessels under my command sunk forty-four of Eagoth’s ships! Ach, how I long for my glory-days... but that dinnae matter now. I got me a new ship, a new crew, and a new lease on unlife. And a new job! The mages found my corpse floating in the drink, breathed a little facsimile of life back into me so that they could pick my brain for some naval expertise... well, turns out keeping a waterlogged corpse reanimated ain’t easy, so they fixed me up with some o’ these little accoutrements. I dinnae recall much after that, but by the time I’d remembered who I was, I guess I’d been patrolling the coast and commanding ships out of habit, tryina establish a beachhead on the realms of the living. Of course, the war’s died down since then, so lately it’s just been patrolling. I’ve been able to remember things a little more clearly lately. My thoughts are more my own, less unwanted input from on high, and I been able to reflect on how I got here. I guess Eagoth ended up winnin’ the war on land, though clearly whatever fleet he built wasn’t tough enough to beat the Realms of the Living. Now I’m just makin’ sure no foolhardy sailors try to take the fight to us. I would love to see my wife and daughters again. Twenty-five years ago's when I was killed, so I reckon at least some of them are still alive. But that’s neither here nor there. I think if my family saw me like this, well... perhaps there’s a reason that the kingdoms of the living and dead stay separate. I know it’s forbidden, but I have spoken with the living from time to time. I guess my old honour prevents me from killin’ everyone whose ships I capture to fill out the navy. Yeah, that’s what we’re encouraged to do, but I got the authority to do what I please with prisoners. Usually I just scare them straight so they don’t try to throw their life away with some foolish attempt at invasion and ransom them back to the nearest living settlement. This kingdom doesn’t need more tired old sailors to zombify; I’m plenty tired and old for the lot of us. Between you and me, I’ve got a bit of a side-business... for as much as the dead seem to hate the living, they want a lot of the stuff that the living make, stuff Eagoth’s higher-ups say we ain’t got use for. The very same higher-ups who seem to be my top clients. Alcohol’s a good example; everyone wants the strong booze to keep themselves lookin’ nice and pretty, and the living make the strongest stuff around! I don’t have much of a gut anymore, but I admit, something about drinking it makes me feel alive again. Reminds me of being around a table, friends all about me, singin’ about our latest victories... those were the days. You can call me a smuggler, but I know lots of folk who’ve done worse.[/i] [/hider] [hider=Wards] [i]I’m one of Eagoth’s greatest naval captains! Or in truth, I’m one of ‘is only captains. I do have a ship, the Gilded Shackle, and a crew of forty ghouls, along with a small fleet at my command with their own ghouls and such. Most aren’t the brightest or can’t do much thinkin’ of their own, but the few that can are decent enough sorts. Jawbone is probably the brightest of the bunch, though he can’t speak, on account of his lower jaw being gone. Hence the name.[/i] [/hider]