Thinking something along the lines of:
Danneil Durduun (pron. Dan-Neil)
-Age: Twenty-four
-Nacionality: Navassa (Haitian)
-Position: Ships' Carpenter
-Weapon:
Adze and
Broadaxe-
Biography: Born into servitude, Danneil was often at the business end of Master Hursk's whip in his youth, when he should have been working in the fields, or picking fruit. His family had been 'seasoned' and he honestly had no idea who his birth parents were. He saw four of his adoptive 'brothers' hanged, and one burned to death (for striking a white man) by the time he was twelve. And he had it easier than some. His rebellious streak didn't stem from him being a bad seed per se, but the jobs which he was being assigned simply didn't challenge him, and he detested abused authority. There was a time when his death, either from the whip, or from the stocks, was deemed a certainty.
In his fourteenth year, Danneil stole six plantains, and some salted fish, and was slated to be executed, but a hired hand of Master Hursk's, named Robinson selected Danneil to help his crew to build a new barn for their Master. He took to the work like a duck to water, applying himself in a way he had never been permitted before. He was a natural craftsman, and brought ingenuity and an innate knowledge to his craft, though the boy had never been inside a classroom. He went from strength to strength after that, rising through the ranks of Robinson's crew of builders, eventually even working on the Master's new manor house.
In his seventeeth year, Hursk's daughter, Amelia, became pregnant out of wedlock, and it was rumoured it was one of Hursk's slaves she had grown close to. Danneil had struck a friendship with Amelia, but it ended there. He knew his place. But he was blamed by Amelia's distraught mother and the girl's suitor, and none would stand with him against their wrath. He was beaten half to death, his throat slit and thrown to the Master's dogs, but miraculously managed to barely escape with his life.
Appearance: Danneil wears his har long, and in dreads, He is muscled like an endurance runner, wiry and lean. His eyes are a rare green for his race, and he bears several distinctive markings from his life. His back is criss-crossed with the marks of no fewer than 60 whip-lashes, from various 'crimes.' He has been ritually scarred on his face and forearms, a single long cut across the bridge of his nose and under both eyes, and scarifications on both forearms, unbroken lines that lead from wrist, most of the way to the elbow, wrapping around the arm. He also sports several tattoos from ports and hidden coves the Gunpowder Storm has visited.
1x Laugh
