NAME Serai Nestal RACE Breton ALIASES The Wraith GENDER Female ORIENTATION Bisexual OCCUPATION Navigator CURRENTLY RESIDES Summerset | High Isle AGE Early 20s BIRTHSIGN The Evening Star EYES Teal SKIN Fair HAIR Blonde HEIGHT 5'4" BUILD Slight

Short in stature, and fairly lean, what Serai lacks in strength she makes up for with a measured swiftness. Her skin is consistently flushed and freckled from sun exposure, and she seems decorated with scars. Short, silvery ones that run up and down her forearms. Long, gnarled ones that lick at the nape of her neck. Evidence of poor swordsmanship, or perhaps, something more nefarious. Beyond these aspects of time and tide, Serai is in possession of a youthful brightness. Her hair, often windswept, spills out in flaxen waves. And her eyes, a saturated aquamarine, seem not so dissimilar from the shallows of the Abecean.In turn, Serai's demeanor is curious for one presumably raised at sea. Her words lack the coarse patois of a sailor, her movements are comparably poised. She is unbridled and warm, with a dash of cheek and an air of mischief. But, when a conversations happens to tilt towards brine and brigantines? She shifts, brimming with anticipation, a gnawing ache in her chest and an eagerness in her eyes. Is it love for the sea that lingers there, with thoughts of salt air and the open water? Or is it fear? Of something darker, shrouded in the sea's inky black depths?

childhood in high isle and daggerfall

When prompted about her youth, Serai recounts memories of ornaugs who flung themselves high out of the shimmering waters around Gonfalon Bay. Or perhaps, the joy and subsequent folly that was her first ever attempt at piloting a small sloop. Though such tales may seem dazzling in their own right, each is but a fleeting glimpse at the past.
A scattered portrait of a woman seemingly without rank or family to call her own.For in that silence, there is no need to acknowledge the ache of loss, or to recall darker stories of a merchant house’s dwindling fortune, and a fair haired child lost to the sea.

time aboard the screaming gull to current

With the moon low in the sky, Serai had clutched a small pouch of gold pieces to her chest. Though it seemed a trifling thing then, she'd shivered when she laid eyes on the Screaming Gull. The vessel was cloaked in shadow, a lumbering, hulking mass, towering high above her.The boatswain had spoken then. His voice was sharp and his tone haughty, though he inquired only how she wished to pay for her passage. When she'd held out her gold purse, he laughed. Serai was in service on the Screaming Gull for eight years, until she sought to slit the captain's throat.Since then, time has churned onward, dulling those wavering, unsteady moments at sea. There is uncertainty when Serai thinks of the future. Perhaps even more so when she considers how quickly the tide can change. Water, rushing back in, seeking to claim all that was revealed and pulling it into the undertow.

common

"By Kynareth, I swear! A better navigator there never was on this side of the Iliac. I could find none who would accept what I could pay to pilot my vessel, and she among them agreed. For a pittance, and a few bolts of fabric. It was a kindness I shall not soon forget."
Sentinel, circa 2E 592"What a foul mouthed ... wretched .... irksome, little blonde mop! Auriel let me find her, I should derive a fair bit of pleasure from seeing that little thief rot in cell."
Skywatch, circa 2E 588"We 'nebarra' have to stick together ... and Serai, well, she's the best of us. Always there, always willing."
Alinor, circa 2E 593"Blast, don not ye be going and getting involved with the likes of her. I have heard she is scarred, marked because her own damn crew did not want her. Think to yerself, what crimes could even a pirate not forgive?"
Port Hunding, circa 2E 591

rare

"You should have seen her, eyes wild and red-rimmed, hair a matted tangle. She wouldn't stop muttering when she held the blade to my throat. I couldn't breath, but then she staggered and I saw blood. Is that what all pirates are like? Crazed, and belligerent?
Abah's Landing, circa 2E 586"That wisp of eh a girl? On the Screaming Gull? Nay! Ey saw it once, off the coast of Hew's Bane...the prow a shrieking siren, black flag billowing in the wind. She's too quiet fer all er that business. "
Port Navire, circa 2E 590

almost unheard of

"My eyes are not what they once were...but you remind me of a lass I knew. A bright little thing. She used to bound about the docks, muttering about sea beasts and ghostly pirate captains. Poor lamb...she would have died years ago now."
Gonfalon Bay, circa 2E 590

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work by lydia croft

face claim: jeske van der pal