Appearance

Body Features

Tall for the Rhennee, Tycho has a trim, athletic build. Though not overly muscular, his lean frame and confident bearing project an air of strength.

He eschews most Rhennee trappings: tattoos, piercings, elaborate beards and jewelry. One might call him unremarkable, but his peak fitness and classic physique command their own notice.

Facial Features

Generally clean shaven, Tycho has the unblemished olive complexation common of the Rhenfolk. Though plainly young, his dark brows, strong nose, and commanding jaw strike a man's visage. He typically wears his long black hair tied back in a loose ponytail. This gives him the look of a man with shorter hair.

Tycho is particularly know for his ubiquitous cocksure grin. Subtle as smirks go, it is, nevertheless, annoyingly ever-present. Often perceived as sardonic, it actually derives from Tycho's innate sense of optimism.

His green eyes are slightly otherworldly. This is not always obvious, but can be perceived in the right conditions. See Devil Sight for more details.

Physical quirks

Devil Sight: Tycho can see in any accursed dark. Though his eyes are a particularly bright, arresting green, they seem normal more often than not. At times, however, his eyes flash like a cat's. At other times his pupils contract rapidly into slit-like shapes, and that can be unnerving. He often does this voluntarily to intimate his foes. Conversely, his pupils can dilate slightly wider than normal, giving him an innocent, trustworthy look.

Otherworldly Leap: Tycho can leap 30' from a standstill. He doesn't go out of his way to show off, per see, he simply makes leaps as necessary in a natural, but nevertheless shocking way.

Nimble: One cannot help but notice the ease with which Tycho moves and deftly manipulates objects. His superhuman dexterity naturally exudes from and permeates his actions. He can effortless slip through a crowded street, tightrope the ropes as if they were solid ground, or mesmerize onlookers by idly tossing a dagger or mindlessly rolling coins across his knuckles.

Subtle Magic: Tycho practices his particular brand of magic with a certain subtlety. He primarily uses his power to augment himself, which often seems less like magic, and more like superhuman speed, ability, and precision to the outside observer. People rarely take him for a caster, and that gives him an edge he prefers to maintain. He doesn't actively hide his command of magic, as he once did, but he doesn't mind if people go unaware of his full stable of talents.

Apparel & Accessories

Tycho wares the clothing; not the other way around. As such, what he wears has remarkably little effect on how people perceive him. Most days, he wears a simple shirt and britches with supple, cuffed boots; perhaps adding a vested doublet and cloak. Even on adventure, Tycho favors agility and arcane wards over armor, and dons only token pieces of the latter.

He isn't partial to this color or that, but flash is rarely his objective, so he tends toward subtle and natural tones. Whatever his attire, it is typically classic, well tailored, and intentionally understated.

He could never abide wearing jewelry or other such baubles. Though he does make exceptions for magical trinkets.

Mentality

Personal history

Our mother always said, “You two were either scrap’n or fight’n, even back in the womb...that is till Ilias wanted out.” Ilias was born nearly a month early and survived by some miracle. He was certainly born first, and he just seemed and acted like the older one. We were inseparable and had our ways. Sure, I’d get us into trouble, but I’d be talking us out. That would have always worked if he’d let it, but Ilias had to ‘save’ people...primarily by starting fights. Anyway, one minute and thirty-two seconds; give or take. That’s how long it takes Ilias to throw the first punch once the posturing starts, regular like the tides. Well, we’d scrap our way through it from there. A strangely satisfying life; free on the River.

But then I had ah, a disagreement, let’s call it, with a disagreeable ass named Izen Seferno. It didn’t go well for him. Seems daft now, but we, Ilias and I, well we figured I should lay low for a few. He’d let me know how things panned out, and when it was safe to head back. No one seemed to miss ole’ Izen, or tie me to his death, so Ilias sent out a message pretty quick. Tragically, the messenger never got to me, or back home. The reasons don’t figure in here, even if they were sorted enough to be a tale of their own. It wouldn't have mattered. I was a lone Rhennee kid; I'd been beaten near to death and chased off to ten different places by then. I was on the edge of the wild with no idea where I had gotten to and so injured I could barley move. Worst of all, I was sure I had been cast out by the Folk. The result was my unintentional, self-imposed exile from everything I had ever known.

I ended up homeless in the outskirts of Greyhawk for years, hiding my heritage to survive and generally failing to stay out of trouble. I had to turn to crime, but honest crime never much bothered me. Stealing for its own sake don't hold a thrill, but a man has to eat, and that’s no crime at all. It was surely nothing compared to what I witnessed. Everywhere I looked the strong were drinking the blood and sweat of the weak. Whether by the sword or in guile; everyone was out for themselves, and it was the opposite of the life I had known on the River. I was naïve, constantly starving, and perpetually dodging the guild and the guard. Towards the end, I had cobbled together a small group of other orphans and vagabonds, but it was shattered by betrayal.

I was losing faith and patience with civility; my thoughts mired in ash and grey, when I notice this this elf, standing on a balcony far down the road. He got a crazed look as soon as he saw me. I tense up and try to remember if I had robbed him. Suddenly, impossibly, he’s right there. I’m startled and rear back to strike, but he's unfazed, and that calms me down.

“You’re the Maelstrom Blade.” He points at me.

Now I’m rattled, searching way, way back for some memory of this elf; ‘The Maelstrom.’ That was my nick name as a kid. Ilias was the Tide...heck he still is, but mine never stuck. Even Ilias wouldn’t remember that name.

“How do you know?” I ask as cool as I can muster.

“Oh not yet, but you will be. Seek the path of the Maelstrom Blade. Seek it in Tome, and Bone; seek it in Synapse and Sinew. Seek its lessons in every fight you lose, every victory you savor. Most of all, seek in yourself and nowhere else. Every Blade is unique, made by his own hand, by his own deed...his own personal alchemy. Become the Blade.”

Though he had been steady and calm, he took on a sudden urgency, “My name is Dorian Keldimir; your predecessor. We will never meet again.” Then he turned and disappeared...and I mean he really disappeared: like poof.

I was colliding with destiny, and as I looked up, the Tide rolled in. Of all the people I didn’t expect to see at that very moment; my brother walks up, clasps me on the shoulder with a heartfelt grin, and gives me a shake. I’m not sure how, or why then, but he came through, as he always had.

He didn’t know Keldimir, and there weren't much to tell him about that. Turns out my brother had been searching nearly the whole time and having a few adventures along the way. Anyway, it didn’t take long for us to get back to our ways. And each time we did, I made sure to learn a lesson.

Education

Tycho has little by way of formal education. Although the Folk value basic literacy and arithmetic, Rhennee life is rigorous and focused on lived experience. They have little time for lessons and rote leaning.

Despite this, Tycho gleaned that knowledge is power quite early in his life. Without access to a meaningful educational system, Tycho learned to teach himself, and now that focus is bent on grasping the arcane.

Once he acquired a Talisman of Intellect, his progress accelerated dramatically. Tycho began to actually grasp the subtle lessons Morley had been gifting him all along. He came to suspect Morley had 'guided' him toward commissioning the Talisman...not to make a sale, of course, but rather because it was what Tycho needed.

Accomplishments & Achievements

Though Tycho is still quite young, has slain dragons and vampires; beholders and devils; elemental and giants, and too many fiends of legend to list here.

To this point, three achievements are of particular note:

One is secret, and came when the Company of Dire Fortune assaulted the resurging Temple of Elemental Evil, putting down the Paraelemental Queen, Ulsedra Vox. The Lady Rhalta of All Elvenkind herself hosted the company in secret celebration. Those who wished, partook of the Fey Mysteries.

The second and greatest deed is fast ringing in the ears of the highborn and common folk alike. The Company of Dire Fortune lifted the ancient curse on the Athis valley, restoring the mighty Athis River and releasing its life giving waters. Though it will take decades at the least, much of the wasteland that is now the Bright Desert will be transformed into a paradise of old.

The third deed is the delving of Iggwilv’s lost lair, and the defeat of the Witch-Queen’s daughter, the Vampire Drelnza. In reaching the inner sanctum, the Company battled past a chaotic remnant of Iggwilv’s rapacious and capricious thirst for power: captured demons, magical constructs, and fantastical beast drawn to the raw demonic scars left upon the Caverns of Tsojcanth. Perhaps as deadly as Drelnza herself, was the Black Dragon Calumnus, whose skull now adorns the walls of the Humble Ogre. 

Failures & Embarrassments

I don't know what he was thinking, or expected, given my impulsive reputation. Sure, I was young, but a man grown among the Folk, a bit drunk, and known to despise those who betrayed their own. His accusations were vile, and he was needling me repeatedly. I snapped, pummeled him with a ferocity I had never before know or unleashed, and threatened him with death itself if he mentioned ill word of my Family again.

Somehow he garbed a knife, and...he stabbed me. I didn't put any though into the killing blow...I don't remember it to this day.

I do remember the life draining from him...the way his face when slack, and the light slid from his eyes. I long in vain to forget that.

Intellectual Characteristics

Agile and adaptive, Tycho embraces the Rhennee worldview of life as a river.  The River is a swirl of powers great and small: eddies, calm pools, rapids, and other travelers beyond count. All drawn along by forces one does not see, and cannot know, so much as control.  One cannot command the River, only adapt to its ever-changing mysteries, navigating each choice anew.  

The ability to refine his perspective is core to Tycho's life approach. He doesn't rely on or become mired in old ways or thinking; he reexamines his choices and course of action as he gains new information and encounters new realities. Yet always, Tycho is guided by his core values: he does not adapt them, only how he expresses them through action.

Not least, Tycho's analytic adaptability affords him a broad perspective. He often see both sides of the coin, gaining insight into but also sympathy for all sides of a conflict. This especially muddles his philosophies with paradox.

But alas, intelligence often sees wisdom as folly, and Tycho's dichotomy of high intelligence and average wisdom begets his greatest flaws. He wants to do right and is highly capable of planning and achieving goals. He is but seventeen, however, and not particularly wise. Curbing impulses and learning to trust experience over constructs of the mind are his real challenges. Being highly capable of rationalizing any action, goal or desire can be dangerous without the temperance of will. Luckily, Ilias has been a steady and subtle guide, lending Tycho direction when he wanders.

Morality & Philosophy

Tycho is morally shaped by competing internal drivers and juxtaposed external influences. His philosophies are ultimately rooted in his Rhennee youth, but they were significantly challenged and refined during his exile in the outskirts of Greyhawk.

Tycho has a personal code, but he sees The Law as a mere abstraction.  He doesn't think an abstraction has much power, beside what those give it. Put another way, give it no power, and it has none. This isn’t to say he is lawless; the foundations of his code are quite civil:  fairness, compassion, loyalty and liberty. His overall temperament is trusting and jovial. These traits, however, are balanced by an analytic mind that can sometimes seek advantage over virtue, and a weakness of will that often succumbs to indulgence and bloodlust.

An intelligent man, Tycho was raised among the tight knit but insular Rhennee.  Though sharp, his extreme agility carried more weight among the Rhenfolk:  rewarding him for taking deadly risks, heaping praise on his nimble mastery of river life; and allowing him and Ilias to consistently best dire odds, fight after fight, brawl after brawl, duel after duel. These formative years were dominated by the stability and comradery of culture and family: which seemed to protect Tycho no matter what follies he dared. This traditional life indelibly imposed upon him the wholesome comfort and deep security of loyal bonds. Likewise, he had an ever-present bond with his brother Ilias. Both eerie quick, Illias wise, and Tycho sharp; they banded together and entered the rough and tumble social world of Rhennee adults much sooner than their peers.

Yet even in his youth, he could see and feel that others were not so charmed as he. It seemed unfair that so much came to him so easily, while others, who genuinely toiled, receive so little respect. And some, some had no rights at all. But these thoughts were too often driven from his young mind, obscured in a haze of drink, adrenaline, and the warm embrace of maidens eager to hang on a victorious arm. Nevertheless, the seeds of his deepest indignation were growing, an indignation with injustice and the senseless suffering it brought with it.

The hard, lonesome years of his exile only deepened these core drivers. It was the absence of bonds that illuminated their true value. He suffered the full brunt of the deep hatred and mistrust directed at his people. He was now the 'other,' the hated river rat, far from the shelter of kinship. Strangely he was not alone. Here he was drowning in a sea of predators and prey, and he witnessed the strong devour the weak. He watched as injustice destroy bonds, keeping the downtrading vulnerable and frightened. Keeping them desperate and ready to prey upon those who should be allies. And so doing, they heap injustice upon itself, lengthen its shadow.

Conversely, Tycho was forced to lean on his adaptive and calculating side. He hid his heritage to survive and learned to leverage guile and anonymity.  Conflicts were far more deadly here and no longer limited to the physical. He had to accurately discern whom he should brawl, whom he should befuddle, and whom he should not challenge. This last bit of restraint was gained painfully, humbly, and near fatally.

Despite all the pain and miserly that swirled around him, Tycho also felt curiously invigorated by his new freedom. The stifling traditions of his people now seemed distant and diminished, and he saw the Folk from the outside. He realized he had been released from cultural chains he hadn't previously know were there; and this freedom aligned with his nature.

Both disheartened to now inhabit a predatory world and excited to emerge from his culture's shadow, he found his perspective on everything being shifted and altered. These tidal forces forged a young man with genuine compassion for others, especially those in need of a helping hand, and genuine disdain for those who abuse their power. They also forged a man at ease with adapting his expectations and boundaries in service of his core values: for Tycho, every context has its own truths.

Taboos

Betraying the Rhennee. Though Tycho has no patience for most Rhennee traditions, he is still deeply committed to the Folk, and the values they represent. He could never abide Rhenfolk who betray their own. They are no Rhenfolk.

Known Languages

Rohpan

Elvish

Common

Common Sign Language

Personality

Motivation

Tycho is convinced he was destined to become, and has indeed become, the next Maelstrom Blade. A title he knows nothing about; suggested by a total stranger. He believes this destiny is now interlinked with the plot of the Leviathan.

Tycho also has an idle dream, a knowingly unrealistic dream, of leading the Rhenfolk into a new era. He is deeply devoted to his people and revers their core values, but he wishes they would shed their unsavory, backwards veneer. He has some desire to show 'outsiders' what an enlightened Rhennee, unburdened by stale traditions, can achieve.

Likes & Dislikes

Tycho is a man of strong opinions who suffers few slights, but he does not seek out conflicts where none exist. Rather, that is generally true: Tycho seems to always run afoul of those he deems to have ‘false honor.’  In particular, he loathes those who equate strength with honor and justify preying on the weak. These 'champions' take what they want, killing everyone in their path, and name it glory. Tycho has an overt grudge with that ilk, and he relishes an opportunity to goad one into a fight.

Tycho also dislikes attitudes that demarcate between armed combat and spellcraft or that consider the latter dishonorable in a duel. In response to one such accusation he replied, “Cast away your sword then, rip away your armor; they are unnatural to your form. I call a sword to my hand by will alone and weave armor from my thoughts. I need no smithy to forge them; no squire to carry them. They are natural to me; Tycho Ralesh, the man you so foolishly insulted. The man you now plead with to lessen himself. Go back to your mother’s teat and challenge me when you’ve grown a pair.”

Virtues & Personality perks

Steadfast: If I make you a real promise, I’ll see it through or die trying. I never abandoned my friends, and if I do, it’s to survive and save them by other means.

Fairness: The underdog isn't always right, but certainly due a helping hand. The rich have more than their ill-gotten share. It’s only fair to relieve them of it when needs be.

Freedom: When the reaper comes...I doubt he can take me, but if it’s going to be my life on the line, then I’ll live it as I see fit. Only fairness comes before freedom. No one is truly free when the world is unjust.

Compassion: I find the line between fairness and compassion hard to see: the latter seems the former's twin, yet by a name more fair. But who can doubt compassion has the softer hand, and who's virtue can strive with that of the compassionate?

I reserve my ire for those who spurn compassion and take pleasure in spite and cruelty.

Vices & Personality flaws

Duelist: I may have a talent for skulking about, and a modicum of charm, but I’ll always be a duelist at heart. I find it difficult to brook any challenge. I know it causes no end of trouble, but what kind of man denies his own heart.

Hubris: I am cocksure to a fault; when guile and skill fail me, there is always luck.

Hidden Shame: I am sometimes haunted by the man I killed in my youth, and one of the Folk at that, so I throw myself into danger and folly hoping to slake my guilt.

Too Much is Never Enough: I see no reason to temper one's passions, though I must at least keep my bloodlust in check. Perhaps I indulge to drown out my indignation at injustice.

Personality Quirks

Honest Guile: I’m genuinely genuine, so when I must lie, people believe me.

Indignation: I value fairness, and it enrages me to witness injustice. When I can stand no more, I act, consequence and law be damned. If my ire truly takes me, I am a terror to behold.

I loath social hierarchies, especially when such nonsense stands between people.

Paradoxical: I’ve always been of two minds, sometimes several. Unlike many, I can set my thoughts aside, as it were, and try to see through another’s eyes. I don’t always like what I see, but I do tend to understand it. This gives me insight at the cost of sympathy. I tend to see people’s complexities, and many of my foes believe they are righteous. Many have met their end at my hand now...have my actions always been just?  Sympathy can make this hard to know.

Or take Izen; was his death the event that propelled my destiny? Forcing me from complacency, hardening my body and mind, driving me toward a life of adventure. Or was it a tragedy that shattered many lives, most of all his, and the nigh idyllic one I had been living?

If not straight paradox, dichotomy, at least, has been the hallmark of my life. There is the dichotomy of my youth among the Folk, and then in exile, and those years split against the life of adventure. There is the dichotomy of my natural, foolhardy bravado, and the hard lessons that have beset me too many times of late. How many more times can I chance a peek at the Veil before I fall though? To curb one’s own nature seems a paradox I must endure.  There is the dichotomy of my respect for my people’s values, and, frankly, disdain for their more backwards ways. They are themselves a strange dichotomy of liberty and oppression.

I suppose it matters not in the end: whether I have many facets or one; I am still responsible for them all.

Evolving Attitudes:  Tycho’s relationship with eldritch and arcane powers is diametrically opposed to that of his culture. Magic is generally mistrusted among the Rhennee, and culturally the sole purview of women. This led Tycho to fear magic in his youth. Yet beyond this, he bore a palpable disdain for magic, and those who used it to vie against him. He found it unnatural and distasteful. 

His Pact, however, put him in intimate contact with the reality of mystical powers, and the fantastic advantages they bestowed. He was forced to weigh this against the staggering and deadly terrors now become fixtures in his life. His foes were growing in power; so too must he.

He concluded that he had misjudged magic, misguided by tradition and ignorance.  It was but another facet of nature that could be harnessed to shape and hone. It could be woven into who he was, and who he was destined to be.

No longer distasteful, Tycho now leverages magic as eagerly as his blades; even, for example, in a melee duel. Whether bestowed or learned, magic is part of him, and he will not submit to be a phantom of himself, leaving some portion of his prowess behind. Do the mighty agree to abandon their strength? Will the fleet submit to bind their legs? Tycho thinks not.

Hygiene

Tycho has had to endure filth and squalor, and can shrug off such conditions without too much discomfort.

Given his druthers, he prefers a clean environment and maintains a healthy and hale visage.

Social

Birthplace

The Selintan River; Ralesh Family Raft

Current Residence

The Humble Ogre (moored ship, being refit), Greyhawk, The Warf

Contacts & Relations

Ilias was always there, further back than I can remember. An ever-present ballast tucked away against the upheavals of any storm. That is, until he wasn’t. One act of folly, and a child finds himself alone in a foreign land. In dire times the loss of all allies illuminates their true worth, and of all that I lost, I felt the absence of Ilias most keenly.

Now reunited by fate, I will not lose kinship with Ilias again

The Company of Dire Fortune: Though we have no real name, Ilias and I have found ourselves adventuring with a group who formed in High Ery. There we discovered plots that have seen the us aid the Oligarchs of Greyhawk and the very Queen of all Elves.

Our members include Ilias and myself, Phalcor Sherendyl, warrior of Celene; Kastran Glowsky, devotee of Brandobaris; the enigmatic warlock Moira; and Malachai of the Iron Elk.

Sylvexen: Sylvexen is among many Fey spirts curious with the Folk. She is the Fey Lord of Riverlands and saved Ilias and me from drowning as children. I entered a Pact with her later in life to honor my debt.

Derider Fanshen: Though unlikely to remember it, Derider Fanshen healed Tycho early in his exile. Prior to masking his heritage, Tycho was beaten near to death several times for the crime of being Rhennee, alone, and in the wrong places. After once such, and particularly heinous beatdown, Tycho was genuinely struggling to survive. He had a broken leg, jaw and ocular orbital, as well as other serious injuries. Derider was touring the slums, as is her way, and healing those in need when she came upon him.

He protested, still blinded by cultural bias, but the horror in her eyes upon seeing a mangled child--the compassion in her smile--they broke his will. Without prejudice, without want of reward, without judgment, she quite literally saved his life with the touch of her hand. She was angelic to his eyes: radiant with goodness and beauty. She became his paragon of virtue, and the object of his deep and wholesome infatuation. Though he would never forget that pivotal moment, he never expected to meet Derider again, so he allowed her to became a symbol in his personal mythology.

And then, years later, he stepped into her office with Lord Summorford's writ in hand. She was unchanged: still angelic, but he, he was transformed. No longer a desperate child, he met her now as a capable ally and a man grown. She would have no memory of that broken boy. He has since been trying to gain her attentions, perhaps a little too pensively and aware that he is but a pup in her eyes. He is convinced, however, that the grandeur of his deeds, and the strength of his convictions will eclipse his youth in the end.

The Seferno Family: I killed Izen Seferno when I was quite young. It was the first time I had taken a life. Few but Ilias know, and I don’t know how to make amends to his family. It’s been a long time; and they don’t even know he fell by my hand.

The Ralesh and Suferno Families are somewhat rivals that nevertheless always find themselves banding together. There are many friendship and trysts between.

Thelonious Cherrypit I can barely stand to spit forth his name. After more than three hard and lonely years of exile, I had gathered together a few trusted allies, and taken to leading them on small heists. Or at least, I had thought them trusted. The tiny hooligan, Thelonious Cherrypit, betrayed us all for coin, some to their deaths. I name him Betrayer.

I am not man of vengeance, but by all the gods I've never believe in...the Betrayer will pay.

Dmitri Valonis A particularly slimy Rhennee whom I particularly dislike. Dmitri pretended to befriend us when we arrived in Greyhawk. I fell for it despite my brother's warning. Then this piece of filth had the gal to seek my help in cheating other Rhennee. What's worse, when I declined--more politely than he deserved--he had the temerity to become indignant.

We have been enemies ever since. I am spying on his operations, and I will uncover evidence of his treachery. I think he is plotting against me.

Family Ties

As blood Ralesh, my father came up in the Family flotilla.  Mother’s family boasted the Loresinger for generations now. My mother Sarra was well suited for the role and has spent her life attending the Vetha and handing tradition down to the young. Though she didn’t fancy Veylan as singularly as he had fancied her, they had many trysts and good years before father raised his own banner and struck out for the Velverdyva...I believe just after I had left the Folk.

Veylan Ralesh  Veylan is a savvy, independent Bargewright plying his trade along the Velverdyva.  He left the Ralesh Family once his progeny had come of age, having no taste for Family politics. He and Davorin, his eldest son, have been growing a flotilla by ferrying cargo for those who can pay and keeping well clear of trouble. Tycho has not actually seen his father or eldest brother since he left the Folk at the age of thirteen.

Sarra Santillian The Santillians have been with to the Ralesh Family for several generations. She has become the third Santillian to be the Family’s Loresinger, as such she attends the Vetha and cannot be taken as a man’s chattel.  Otherwise, Veylan would have claimed her.

Tycho has had the opportunity to see her since his return from exile. She wept to see her young sons again, and she has been loving and welcoming. She is deeply traditional, however, and senses that Tycho is keeping troubling secrets.  She will not put Tycho and Ilais’s deeds to song, though they now eclipse those of most Rhennee.  None can tell if she refuses from sorrow or a stiff neck.

Davorin Ralesh Veylan's eldest and steadiest son. Davorin has ever stood by his father's side, and of all the children, he took Sarra's sermons on tradition most to heart. He is an independent Bargewright by the deeds of his own hand: hard but wholesome deeds. He now heads a joint flotilla with Veylan that sticks on the Velverdyva River.

Joren Ralesh Veylan's lost son. Of 'the three' as Joren, Davorin, and and Varek were once called, Tycho was closest with Joren. He is part grifter, part dreamer, and always looking for a shortcut to wealth and glory. He heard tale of some hairbrained score in Dyvers, chased after it, and never returned. Since Tycho learned of his disappearance, he has been planning to search for his lost brother.

Varek Ralesh Veylan's willful son. As quiet and aloof as he is stubborn, Varek was always a bit of a mystery. One day, when Tycho was ten, Varek offered his farewells and left the River behind. He now works the docks in the River Quarter, risen to foreman.

He has no ties to the Folk now, but Tycho and Ilias have seen him, and traded pleasantries, on occasion.

Saska Ralesh Veylan's watchful child. Saska is Tycho younger sister by exactly nine months, and was always a quiet, observant, and efficient child. The kind you suddenly notice has been in the room, taking note of your private buffooneries. Despite her sly ways and unnerving gaze, she is always welcome and beloved, melting away annoyance and suspicion with a well placed, glowing smile.

Saska has always been up to things, things no one seems to know. Whilst Tycho and Ilias have been making names on adventure, she has been making rounds in the circuits of power...obvious circuits she will not even acknowledge. Any inquiry is treated as absurd or insolent, and artfully dismissed.

Of all his family, save Ilias, Tycho has reconnected with Saska most. She visits the Old Docks with fair regularity, and always takes a serious interest in the twin's adventures and growing political connections.

Ilsa the Silver Siren Ralesh Ilsa is Tycho's great-aunt, Vetha, and Helmsman on the Humble Ogre. She was originally sent by the Family to pass judgment on Tycho, and secondarily to train his crew on the intricacies of sailing ships, not common among the Rhen. She has done admirably at that secondary task, while forestalling her primary duty. She has gained respect for Tycho, and his mercurial rise, and her loyalties are shifting in his direction.

Ilias Ralesh Veylan's restless son. Ilas is Tycho's fraternal twin, and a nigh inseparable ally. See Contacts & Relations.

Speech

Tycho is articulate and well spoken, especially for a man with no formal education. He shed his Rhennee accent to survive while living in the outskirts of Greyhawk city.

It didn't take long for him to realize that articulation and enunciation opened many doors, and he specifically focused on improving his vocabulary and linguistic command for several of his years in his exile.

With his intellect now propelled by the Talisman, he sometimes falls into erudite diction and semiotic wordplay, but he has tried to maintain a straightforward style of speech.