Salvatore Theodore Spiton
Known as Sal T Spiton, or just Salvo, Salvatore is a half-orc monk/artificer multiclass currently inhabiting the continent of Darboria. Born in the outer reaches of the Settlements of Barvel on a Lunar Genesis to a disinterested Robbin and Dreka Spiton, Salvo was raised to see himself as a nuisance rather than a child. His youth was one filled with hardship and hard labor, with his small size being used to repair and tinker with the now desolate Linrean defenses designed to help keep the wildlands at bay. His pay was minimal, and quickly he found himself resorting to thievery to afford even the most basic of necessities, risking capture rather than returning home. One thing led to another and eventually, Salvo got too greedy.
A gold pocket watch of the town nobles' collection, left innocently on a tavern's bar counter-- an opportunity too good not to pass up. As Salvo grasped the watch's chain, a hand seized the back of his neck and held him high. The hand of a man who could see his attempt coming a mile away. The trial was simple, and held outside the bar-- either lose the right hand he tried to steal with to the frost, or pay off his crimes in the pits. It was in those pits that Salvo fought, time and time again, in brutal one-on-one combat. He could recognize the bloodstains on the walls of the pits from fights prior. 5gp for participating, 10gp if you knock the other man out. And 20 if you kill him. But he could never bring himself to end another's life, and his kindness was rewarded with a friend. They had fought 2 times prior, going 1-1 and being near equals in the ring. A brother he never had, Salvo and Ukhi spoke about the life they wanted to have after their release. Salvo heard about food and fun, music and amusement. Things he never had the chance to experience. Until his last fight.
Having nearly saved enough to finally find freedom, Salvo knew the gamemasters would throw their best fighters at him in the coming few days in a desperate attempt to keep him in financial limbo. Every break or bump that needed tending (from Salvo's pocket) would keep the profits flowing in just that much longer. His spirit kept him going. Kept him getting knockout after knockout and kept him standing when he'd normally give in. He was face to face with Ukhi, a mere 2 fights away from freedom. His friend knew Salvo wouldn't hold back, and he was tempted to just let him win. But he knew that Salvo needed to stay on his toes for the fight after this one-- softening him up with an easy win will do more harm than good for the next fight. The bone-chilling howl of a winter wolf signaled the beginning of the end. A short jab here, an unpredictable hook there, they traded blows while probing for a chance to strike. Sal went for a right jab, and Ukhi shot forwards with a right hook to the jaw. Salvo's eyes, instead of shutting to darkness, shut to the image of a ruined village. Homes burnt to ash, a foggy morning blocking his sight from beyond a few feet. He was lying in a pile of rubble, immobilized, when he spotted a dark black snake approaching his right arm. It lunged at him, biting hard into his right sleeve, and refusing to let go. He awoke only as his back hit the icy wall of the pit. He was unconscious for less than a second, but the experience felt like eternity. He saw Ukhi approach, using the momentum to his advantage, and Salvo saw the chance to even the odds. Two swift strikes to the guard to throw him off, and one heavy hit to the stomach to stagger. The first two hits struck home, and the third bought him his freedom. Salvo shot a clenched right fist towards Ukhi's stomach, and as his muscles tightened, he felt the ache and pain of a snakebite right where the one had bitten him in his dream. Ukhi vomited as the punch went home, and crumpled like a sack of potatoes onto the ground. The crowd erupted with cheers as Salvo's arm began to feel cold. Colder than the snow and ice around him. Colder than the hearts of the cheering crowd. Colder than Ukhi's now lifeless body. The cheers died out as Salvo struggled to try to get his friend to wake up. The vomit was not vomit, but a spray of blood that now coated Salvo and the ice below. That should have never been a deadly strike, it was only the setup for a more impactful uppercut. But Ukhi now lay dead at his feet, from a simple hit to the stomach. His arm began to ache again as he turned to the crowd, fist clenched, ready to climb out of there and fight his way to a doctor if he had to. He no longer needed to fight the second opponent, for he had earned his freedom by ending the life of another.
As a reward for finally getting his head above water, the gamemasters and town leaders invited him to their nightly banquet. For the first time in his life he tried wine, tasted fresh bread, and heard the sound of music. But without Ukhi there to celebrate with him the wine tasted sour, the bread rotten, the music shrill. It was as he sat outside, sobbing in the alleyway behind the building, that a man dressed in a black cloak came before him. A deep brimmed hat prevented Salvo from seeing the man's face in the darkness of night. He walked over to the huddled Salvo, and let a single gold pocket watch hang from his fingers. The nobleman's watch-- now drenched in blood, dropped into Salvo's hands. Upon opening it, a stream of blood poured out from within, revealing a single word etched into the glass: Vessel. The clock was not ticking-- stuck on 1:27pm. He looked up from his crouch and the man was gone. An unfamiliar warmth just barely grazed his right arm and he turned to see the nobleman's house lit ablaze, his body slumped over the 2nd story windowsill. Salvo ran. As far away as he could. Guards shouted confused orders and chased him through the town streets. He vaulted the town walls and kept going, until the only movement he could hear was his own. He turned and saw the entire town ablaze. He blinked, and briefly the image of that burnt-to-ruins town in his dream reappeared. It had been this place the whole time. He was lying in the ruins of the nobleman's home when the snake bit him. After running for what felt like days, he finally found refuge inside a barn. Amongst the cows he began to flutter in and out of consciousness, having been unable to sleep since the fight with Ukhi.
As he began to fall into the all-too-welcoming hay behind him, he could see a faint glimpse of blue light shining in front of him. His tired eyes could open only barely enough to see a blurry blue figure bending down over his slumped form. Touching it's palm to his, Salvo felt the stress and sorrow that had been plaguing him his entire life lift away. Pain faded into warmth as he began to feel his strength and energy return to him. This was no dream or nightmare like before-- this was right in front of him. His eyes managed to make out details about the right hand that was pressed into his left. Soft, almost ethereal, with rings of gold and silver and a bracelet made of ivory. As he tried to focus on the main figure in front of him, the glowing blue light faded and the being disappeared. What was left behind was a teardrop engraved into his left palm. Dull now, it began to glow as he wandered the barn and approached an injured calf. A swelling left hind leg spelt doom for the child if left to become lame. He knelt beside it, his hand glowing even brighter than before, and attempted to set the leg back in place-- if to at the very least ease the pain. Remarkably however, as he gripped the broken leg, it began to become whole again. The swelling near instantly reduced before his eyes and, after a brief moment of re-learning how to walk, the calf was able to walk again.
He stayed awake all through that night, having his nearly 3 days of sleeplessness cured in an instant. As the sun began to rise, he left before the rooster's call and walked in search for an answer to what these symbols and messages mean, picking up odd jobs here and there to make ends meet. He walked, rode, and sailed his way to the land of Darboria, having been directed there by Galbury's priestess of Elynie. As he dismounted the ship, his fingers brushed onto the pocket watch in his right pocket-- now stuck on 12:41pm. This was Ukhi's homeland, and a likely place for him to learn about his friend. Now part of a yet-to-be-named questing party, Salvo is finally making his way out of his shell. But above all else, he still cares for his fallen friend. He had made a silent promise that evening in the pit, kneeling over the still corpse of Ukhi: "I will bring you back. And I will show you the world for what it can be, not for what it was."
A gold pocket watch of the town nobles' collection, left innocently on a tavern's bar counter-- an opportunity too good not to pass up. As Salvo grasped the watch's chain, a hand seized the back of his neck and held him high. The hand of a man who could see his attempt coming a mile away. The trial was simple, and held outside the bar-- either lose the right hand he tried to steal with to the frost, or pay off his crimes in the pits. It was in those pits that Salvo fought, time and time again, in brutal one-on-one combat. He could recognize the bloodstains on the walls of the pits from fights prior. 5gp for participating, 10gp if you knock the other man out. And 20 if you kill him. But he could never bring himself to end another's life, and his kindness was rewarded with a friend. They had fought 2 times prior, going 1-1 and being near equals in the ring. A brother he never had, Salvo and Ukhi spoke about the life they wanted to have after their release. Salvo heard about food and fun, music and amusement. Things he never had the chance to experience. Until his last fight.
Having nearly saved enough to finally find freedom, Salvo knew the gamemasters would throw their best fighters at him in the coming few days in a desperate attempt to keep him in financial limbo. Every break or bump that needed tending (from Salvo's pocket) would keep the profits flowing in just that much longer. His spirit kept him going. Kept him getting knockout after knockout and kept him standing when he'd normally give in. He was face to face with Ukhi, a mere 2 fights away from freedom. His friend knew Salvo wouldn't hold back, and he was tempted to just let him win. But he knew that Salvo needed to stay on his toes for the fight after this one-- softening him up with an easy win will do more harm than good for the next fight. The bone-chilling howl of a winter wolf signaled the beginning of the end. A short jab here, an unpredictable hook there, they traded blows while probing for a chance to strike. Sal went for a right jab, and Ukhi shot forwards with a right hook to the jaw. Salvo's eyes, instead of shutting to darkness, shut to the image of a ruined village. Homes burnt to ash, a foggy morning blocking his sight from beyond a few feet. He was lying in a pile of rubble, immobilized, when he spotted a dark black snake approaching his right arm. It lunged at him, biting hard into his right sleeve, and refusing to let go. He awoke only as his back hit the icy wall of the pit. He was unconscious for less than a second, but the experience felt like eternity. He saw Ukhi approach, using the momentum to his advantage, and Salvo saw the chance to even the odds. Two swift strikes to the guard to throw him off, and one heavy hit to the stomach to stagger. The first two hits struck home, and the third bought him his freedom. Salvo shot a clenched right fist towards Ukhi's stomach, and as his muscles tightened, he felt the ache and pain of a snakebite right where the one had bitten him in his dream. Ukhi vomited as the punch went home, and crumpled like a sack of potatoes onto the ground. The crowd erupted with cheers as Salvo's arm began to feel cold. Colder than the snow and ice around him. Colder than the hearts of the cheering crowd. Colder than Ukhi's now lifeless body. The cheers died out as Salvo struggled to try to get his friend to wake up. The vomit was not vomit, but a spray of blood that now coated Salvo and the ice below. That should have never been a deadly strike, it was only the setup for a more impactful uppercut. But Ukhi now lay dead at his feet, from a simple hit to the stomach. His arm began to ache again as he turned to the crowd, fist clenched, ready to climb out of there and fight his way to a doctor if he had to. He no longer needed to fight the second opponent, for he had earned his freedom by ending the life of another.
As a reward for finally getting his head above water, the gamemasters and town leaders invited him to their nightly banquet. For the first time in his life he tried wine, tasted fresh bread, and heard the sound of music. But without Ukhi there to celebrate with him the wine tasted sour, the bread rotten, the music shrill. It was as he sat outside, sobbing in the alleyway behind the building, that a man dressed in a black cloak came before him. A deep brimmed hat prevented Salvo from seeing the man's face in the darkness of night. He walked over to the huddled Salvo, and let a single gold pocket watch hang from his fingers. The nobleman's watch-- now drenched in blood, dropped into Salvo's hands. Upon opening it, a stream of blood poured out from within, revealing a single word etched into the glass: Vessel. The clock was not ticking-- stuck on 1:27pm. He looked up from his crouch and the man was gone. An unfamiliar warmth just barely grazed his right arm and he turned to see the nobleman's house lit ablaze, his body slumped over the 2nd story windowsill. Salvo ran. As far away as he could. Guards shouted confused orders and chased him through the town streets. He vaulted the town walls and kept going, until the only movement he could hear was his own. He turned and saw the entire town ablaze. He blinked, and briefly the image of that burnt-to-ruins town in his dream reappeared. It had been this place the whole time. He was lying in the ruins of the nobleman's home when the snake bit him. After running for what felt like days, he finally found refuge inside a barn. Amongst the cows he began to flutter in and out of consciousness, having been unable to sleep since the fight with Ukhi.
As he began to fall into the all-too-welcoming hay behind him, he could see a faint glimpse of blue light shining in front of him. His tired eyes could open only barely enough to see a blurry blue figure bending down over his slumped form. Touching it's palm to his, Salvo felt the stress and sorrow that had been plaguing him his entire life lift away. Pain faded into warmth as he began to feel his strength and energy return to him. This was no dream or nightmare like before-- this was right in front of him. His eyes managed to make out details about the right hand that was pressed into his left. Soft, almost ethereal, with rings of gold and silver and a bracelet made of ivory. As he tried to focus on the main figure in front of him, the glowing blue light faded and the being disappeared. What was left behind was a teardrop engraved into his left palm. Dull now, it began to glow as he wandered the barn and approached an injured calf. A swelling left hind leg spelt doom for the child if left to become lame. He knelt beside it, his hand glowing even brighter than before, and attempted to set the leg back in place-- if to at the very least ease the pain. Remarkably however, as he gripped the broken leg, it began to become whole again. The swelling near instantly reduced before his eyes and, after a brief moment of re-learning how to walk, the calf was able to walk again.
He stayed awake all through that night, having his nearly 3 days of sleeplessness cured in an instant. As the sun began to rise, he left before the rooster's call and walked in search for an answer to what these symbols and messages mean, picking up odd jobs here and there to make ends meet. He walked, rode, and sailed his way to the land of Darboria, having been directed there by Galbury's priestess of Elynie. As he dismounted the ship, his fingers brushed onto the pocket watch in his right pocket-- now stuck on 12:41pm. This was Ukhi's homeland, and a likely place for him to learn about his friend. Now part of a yet-to-be-named questing party, Salvo is finally making his way out of his shell. But above all else, he still cares for his fallen friend. He had made a silent promise that evening in the pit, kneeling over the still corpse of Ukhi: "I will bring you back. And I will show you the world for what it can be, not for what it was."
Children
Pronouns
He/They
Remove these ads. Join the Worldbuilders Guild
Comments