[Tigady]

Drake Jakob Seiller, Shipwright

Skills:
Adept Ship Construction;
-Average Carpentry, Novice Weaving, Average Sailing & Rigging
Novice Music;
-Novice/Moderate Balalaika, Novice Folk Dancing
No Developed Combat Skill.
No Developed Survival Skill.

Personality:
-Uninterested. The next closest word is quiet, but he isn’t particularly quiet at all. He simply lacks the amount of interest required to be loud. If it doesn’t involve him, or he has no reason to care for something, he simply doesn’t.

-Tidy, everything must be neat, everything must be orderly. This doesn’t come to say he has an abundance of table manners or anything like that, only that he prefers to keep things clean and squared away.

-Blunt, he isn’t afraid to speak his mind. He knows there are limits to this, but if he has something on his mind, he’ll make it clear.

-Workaholic, speaks for itself. His favorite way to relax is to stop relaxing and get some work done. Once everything he wants to get accomplished for a day is finished, then he may rest.

-Objective minded, everything he does falls into a purpose or interest for him. He doesn’t do anything he doesn’t find useful in some way, even when teasing someone or flirting he is keeping objectives in mind such as gaining insight into the mind of his subject or making an impression.

-Sarcastic, a quick wit and decisive mind mix together to make both snap decisions and a certain tendency towards sarcastic remarks. Especially if he isn't taking something seriously, though a string of sarcastic statements does not always mean he isn't taking something seriously, though it can often be confused for such.

-Perceptive & Observational, he pays close attention to details and takes notice of a lot of minute things others pay no mind to, which helps him drastically in construction.

-Slightly Pretentious. Self explanatory, it helps in some cases, hurts in many others. He can keep it under wraps when he needs to.

Description:
The eighteen year old stands at about 5’10”, weighs around 140 pounds, has short dark brown hair, and intensely focused dark brown eyes. His skin is rough and bears a slight tan, he spends most of his time outdoors working. He has many tool scars around his hands and arms, the mark of rougher working class.

Back Story:

Spoiler

Drake was born in the city of Helengrad, a crowded naval community with a large focus on production for the lucin garrisons in the region. His family owned a small shipyard that was built for smaller merchant vessels, but was more often commissioned to construct small warships. Working at the shipyards meant Drake’s family and friends always had work, the work was hard and almost all of their time had to be put into it, but the job kept the family fed, which was more than most of the city had.

Growing up in Helengrad was tough, the city was filled with poverty and the leadership was corrupt. A reigning lord had control of the city, given to him by the lucins after the veld war, and in return he made sure the dominant industry was military production. Heavy taxes crushed most businesses that weren’t either under city control or supplying armies, and making ends meet even for these lucky businesses often meant bartering in the market with whatever you have left at the end of each month. Drake, like most people in the city, resented to upper class of the city and the ruling lord.

Drake grew up spending almost his entire time at the shipyard working on constructing vessels with his family, He learned to wield a hammer before he learned to wield a quill, learned to weave canvas for sails before he learned to shave, and learned to handle sailing knots and rope before he learned to handle drinks. There was never a shortage of work, but Drake never resented it. Working with his family was enjoyable for him, and to him helping sail the ships to their destination once they were completed was more than enough payoff.

Drake felt completely at home on the open icy seas off the coast of Helengrad, just as comfortable sailing on a new ship as he was working on one at home, if not more. A sailor feels a call to the sea, to travel across vast ocean waves. A shipwright however feels this as well as a call to the ship itself, to feel the sails and hull as he works on the rigging or takes the helm, to guide a ship across the seas not to get to a destination or embrace a freedom, but to feel the ship itself. This was true happiness for Drake, taking the helm of a ship and feeling the rise and falls as he took it through the waves.

Drake loved the work, and hated being idle, working extra hours just to keep his mind off of the pain around him. As messy as this often got him, his father always encouraged him to be a clean and tidy person despite the work, it made sailing a ship more efficient and kept workplace accidents to a minimal. Keeping a decent appearance didn't keep him in a shortage of friends either, but he always minded to not ever get too clean, never wanting to resemble the upper class that held Helengrad in an iron grip. Waking up each day and lifting his head towards the upper district's walls and castle each morning filled Drake with a bitter resentment for those who gained their comfort at the expense of so many others, but the crushing reality of it was there was nothing any one man could do about it, so Drake kept his head down, and learned to not look to the high walls or the guard patrols.

Helengrad had some joy for her workers though, as Drake grew old enough to visit the bars with his older sister Vasha at the end of long work shifts, she started teaching him to play a local folk instrument called the balalaika, and how to do simple folk dances. There were not many things to do save from work to keep people occupied with taxes on things like drinks, so music and dancing was a very common past time for the low class workers. Drake never danced much, but he practiced the instrument as often as he could, finding strumming the strings faster and faster through a song a good way to relieve tension and express emotions he didn’t usually display. Even amidst tyranny from the city government, on nights of simple revelry and music the people of Helengrad could feel simple freedoms, and Drake was no exception. He grew in confidence as he grew in popularity, becoming bold and blunt with practice, with each passing day becoming more and more open with his resentment of the city lord.

As the civil wars began to take a heavier toll on nearby armies, production was increased several times in the city, all resources were being put to a war the people were not even part of, leaving little to nothing for them. Taxes were increased and people began to starve, strict martial law was enforced to crush attempts at smuggling. Eventually the people started a riot, and the leaders of the labor unions, well respected amongst the working people, took the opportunity to take charge and organize the riot into a revolution. The fighting was brutal, but cruelty wasn't a stranger to Drake, each day he saw the guards and soldiers beating some other helpless person who couldn't pay their taxes, or executing a smuggler who was just trying to make a living. He joined the riot and fought alongside the workers of Helengrad, channeling his resentments into swinging his hammer at the soldiers who challenged the mob and not feeling a single regret for killing until days had passed and things had calmed down.

They took the city from the well-armed soldiers by sheer numbers, fighting with their working tools, and the city lord was overthrown and publicly executed, along with his higher officers. The chief of the labor unions, a man named Aleksey, took charge of the city and made Helengrad a people’s republic, working for an independent city where everyone could be equal. Drake was overwhelmed with the sudden feelings of patriotism and pride, like most of the city. He stayed as active as he could in public work and grew very political minded. This city now belonged to the people who fought and bled for it, including himself. Through struggling together and embracing the will of the people each man could put in his effort and make a difference in the city, a prospect loved by young men eager for change and fairness such as Drake.

The people rallied behind the banner of the free worker and the common man, a system was set up to share all resources fairly between the people as opposed to exporting them to foreign armies. The people rejoiced in a new-found economic independence. The lasting effects of the struggles were still present, and life was still difficult, but people began to feel proud to be a part of the commonwealth, citizens of Helengrad. Young men, citizens, were conscripted into a small “people’s army” to defend the city, and Drake gladly took the responsibility, eager to help the city and her people in any way he could. He was still able to work at the shipyards, but was required to participate in patrols and drills each night, armed lightly with gear given to him from what military supply could be salvaged at the end of the riot. Here Drake learned to be objective minded, to focus on the outcome of events and how to best meet goals, rather then simply working each day away.

After several months of independence Helengrad began to get back on its feet, the people worked hard together and shared what they had to survive, and everyone felt a sense of duty to make sure the city thrived. However, unbeknownst to the people, their riot was not taken lightly by the armies they used to supply. A nearby lucin garrison mobilized and marched on the city, attacking the people they saw as “rebellious cancer” with extreme prejudice. The battle lasted less than two days, with the slaughter of most of the conscripted forces and the sacking of the city. Drake, Vasha, and some of their closer friends barely escaped on a ship, lucky that their shipyard was among the last lucin objectives to fall. Drake couldn't bear to look back as they sailed away, to see the destruction and the bloodshed, but he knew it was there. He knew that despite all the best intentions, and the righteous will of the common people, in this war there was always someone stronger to take the embers of that peace and change it into the fires of war. So Drake and his family reluctantly set course to get as far away from Helengrad as they could, away from civil wars and crushing tyranny.

They sailed as far as they could on the supplies they had, making it to the forbidden lands and skirting along the coastal lines in search of a settlement. As supplies began to dwindle they spotted a small abandoned village, led to it by an old lighthouse, and stopped there. They ran the ship aground and scrapped it for supplies and construction material, starting to fortify the fishing village as best they could once they realized that the area was overrun with dusk creatures. Vasha and Drake’s best friend Nikolai, discovered the start of an ancient pathway, and signs that another much larger group had been through the area. They salvaged what materials they could and built a wagon, two of the party were hunters so they stocked up on what they could, and together they set forward following the pilgrim’s path. Drake was hesitant at first to follow ancient beacons on this dangerous path, but as his family and friends began to move he knew he had to go with him, and that he needed to keep hope for the sake of the group as a whole, still remembering the concepts of community that had grown out of Helengrad's revolution.

Months into the journey the group was not faring unwell, they were making decent speed and minimal losses at first, happy and feeling strong. Vasha and Nikolai got married in a simple ceremony, and they all knew they could make it to the end of the journey together, with the strength of unity. Several more months in however, hopes had begun to dwindle, they had lost half of the party to dusk creature attacks and starvation, and now they were entering a hostile and barren desert. As they moved forward they continued losing people until the last hunter died from the cold of the barren desert night even as Drake burned his Balalaika to keep them all warm, and from there it was down to Nikolai, Vasha, Drake, and an older warrior named Mikhael. Nikolai died of dehydration in the desert, which crushed the spirits of both Vasha and Drake. He grew uninterested in almost every simple process, from eating to moving forward. Life was put into perspective and most things just didn't seem important or worth effort any more, his sole remaining care being his sister.

Mikhael carried the weight of the remaining three on his shoulders, practically dragging the depressed siblings in his wake. They made it to the end of the desert only to be ambushed by dusk creatures, an exhausted Mikhael fell in battle, and Vasha was shot. She leaned on Drake’s shoulders for several more miles as they escaped the attack and sped down the path, Drake knew they were nearing the end of the path and the larger group they were following. He knew it, all the signs were there. If he could just get her to them maybe she would live he thought. As he neared the bridge to the city, and the end of the path, Vasha collapsed. Drake tried to carry her on his shoulders, but she wouldn’t let him. It was the end of the line and she was in pain, ready to join her husband. Her brother kept by her side in tears and sung quietly to her, a farewell song, as she bled out near the last beacon.. And then the seventeen year old was alone, at the end of the yearlong path as the sole survivor of his group.