Master of Blackridgepool's Ship Building Guild
It was my damn idea for all the guildmembers to do this... I guess I autta be the first, and set an example.To whomever (whoever? whatever.) is reading this, welcome! This is my personal file. Tells aaaalll about me -- who I am, what I do,
My personal history? Shit, I don't remember if I'm supposed to use this section for before or after I died. Hmm... eh, screw it. I'll use it for both. Lets see...
Before SynthacrosiaThis section is going to be tough. I've lived in this Tower for nearly 1200 years. That's an insanely long amount of time, especially when you compare it to my total years spent before my death.
LifeI'm going to cover this as best I can. My life... it was hard. I can't really remember my parents faces anymore, but that's not necessarily because of how long ago it was. I never saw them growing up -- that much I can clearly remember. The bastards were never around, pretty much abandoned me. I'm fairly certain my dad some some kind of sailor. I have a few distinct memories of waving goodbye to him, as a ship left shore. My mom? I have no fucking idea what she did. Whenever Dad disappeared, Mom did too. I'm gonna move on before this gets too sappy. I lived with my Aunt. She was cool, from what I remember. Kinda let me do whatever I want. Got into a loooot of trouble because of that... But she always let me back in. I liked to build things, I think that much is obvious, seeing as I'm head of a fucking ship builders guild here. When things broke around my Aunt's house, I'd rig up some contraption to fix it up, or replace it. Walls, roofs, doors, chairs, you name it, and I'd build it. Came in handy when I'd break things, as I always knew how to fix it. This interest of mine ended up landing me a job as a repair woman on a ship. Cant remember the name of the boat, wasn't important. Can't remember the name of any of the crew either. Hell I don't even remember where the boat sailed. All that matters, was in my long 25 years up to this point, this was my first time actually working on a ship. And wow, let me tell you... loved it. At that moment, then and there, I knew I'd want to work on ships for the rest of my life. Apparently, I'd work on em after that too.
DeathBecause then I went and fucking died. It's weird, this tower. The things it burns into your mind. When I first showed up here, I had absolutely zero memories of my death. Hell, even the weeks leading up to my death were gone. Slowly... I think it took like, 3 weeks, I gained them back. Actually, now that I think about it, the memories came back to me as I was exploring, climbing the floors. Somewhere around floor 3 is when I finally got them all back. That was nearly 900 years ago, and these memories are still as fresh as that day. I'd been working as a repairwoman on this ship for... 12 years. We'd seen quite a few different things. May or may not have gotten myself into some low level piracy, I don't fully remember. I like to think we had sailed most of the known world by that point, but in reality, it was mostly just sailing back and forth between established ports. I think... we had some contract. A defense contract? That part is still fuzzy. And actually, as I'm writing this, I realize a lot of it doesn't need to be in here, most of you fucks know my story already! Though, I guess it's still good to get on paper. So we were defending this other little vessel, nothing more than a simple Yawl. This trio of huge, dark vessels flying red colours surprised us -- they came out from behind this island we were sailing around. I heard an explosion, and my name was called. Something broken I thought. I ran up onto deck, and stood there staring at the ships. There was fire everywhere. Something small, round, and black rapidly grew in my vision... there was a flash, pain, then darkness... and then I woke up in here.
This Damned TowerI didn't know this when I first arrived, but was later told... I arrived some 800 years after the Clockwork re-awakened. When the tower started going to shit. I managed to make it out of the First Floor before the records got wiped down there. I think I was among the last few groups to make it out... last I heard, people on the Second Floor hadn't seen any newcomers from the First Floor in a long time. I began to wander. I followed most of the same trails all new souls did. I hit the second floor, and hung out in Weirborough for a time. I made a lot of friends there actually. I think if I hadn't made it to the Fourth Floor, I wouldv'e stayed in Weirborough. Hell, I almost didnt leave! I spent somewhere around 200 years there. I needed the time there, I think, to get reacquainted with who I am. Helped a few of the townsfolk build ships over the years, that really got me grounded again.
But as time went on, I felt restless. A small river wasn't enough for me. The pricks over in Tamworth got on my nerves, and the lazy sods over in Beachcastle pissed me off to nearly an equal amount. So one year, I bid my goodbyes, and moved up to the Third Floor. I experienced the thirst, the heat... it was more than I was prepared for. Everything that I had relearned about myself on the Second Floor, I lost in the deserts of the third. I was wandering that desert for somewhere upwards of 5 or 600 years. All I would do is wander from Salvation Cactus to Salvation Cactus. I'd drink, rest, and continue wandering. I'm fairly certain I went half mad out there. Eventually, someone saved me. I never learned her name, but I dream of her often... She had this fierce, sharp face, but the gentlest voice. She found me in the desert, and invited me to rest at her camp. She slowly drew my story out of me, and we... shared this cactus. Mindwalk Cacti is what they're called, I later learned. That night, I spent what felt like another 600 years, wandering my memories. The morning after, she was gone, and I felt like myself again for the first time in ages.
This is the part where I get to things that actually matter. I apologize for vomiting forth so many words before this, evidently I have a long story to tell.I quickly left the desert after that. I don't think I'll ever go back down to the Second Floor to visit old friends, because I never want to cross that damn desert again in my
Blackridgepool, homeI quickly began to make friends here. Started off hanging around the docks, got to talking to all the sailors and craftspeople there. They soon realized I knew what the fuck I was talking about, because of course I knew what the fuck I was talking about. I followed my footsteps in life, and made my way aboard a small ship as a repairwoman again. Damn it felt good to be back there again. The first moment we left port -- nay, the first moment shit broke on the ship while we were in the middle of a storm, and I heard the captain call my name... that's when I felt I was complete again. I spent many many years, bouncing from ship to ship, living my afterlife the exact way I always dreamed I would. Those days, we were scouting the ocean, rounding up fish for the Fifth Floor souls (they loved to eat fish up there -- I've never tried them, as I've never gone to the Fifth Floor to feel hunger), exploring islands. We liked to take stock of all the islands on the ocean with all of their trees, should we need to build more boats. As the years went by, the old head of the Ship Builders Guild, Garrett, decided he was bored. Didn't want to do it anymore he said. Suggested I take over. Well, I jumped on the opportunity of course. No way in hell I was going to let some other idiot take over. I'd been a repairwoman most of my life, and most of my afterlife. It was my damn turn to build the ships. And that's the story of how I became head of the Guild.
Phew. You know, day to day, you don't really think you've done that much. I mean, hundreds of years spent living in the same location? How much could you get up to? But damn if this sheet about myself isn't full. I left out so much too -- I mean, what I left out isn't important with regards to ship building, but still. Left out my time on the First Floor, my adventure in Processing , and the love I found while traveling the lazy river Spillway. Ah well. Ask me about it next time you see me in Ionel's Inn. Maybe buy me a drink, too.
- Current Location
- Year of Birth
- 817 (1183 years old)
- Dark Hazel, with hues of Vibrant Green
- Long, brown, but red in the Sunlight
- Skin Tone
- Pale, freckled
- 5' 10"
- 130 lbs
I picked up this game during my time in Weirborough , it's called Dead-Eye. Let me tell you... that's my favourite fucking game around. It's pretty simple, you and an opponent set your wagers, and choose how many six sided dice you'll play with. My favourite's 3 die. The object of the game is to be the first person to have all 3 die show the same number. The catch is, if you roll a 1 at any point, you lose. If you both roll 1's, it's a draw, and you keep playing. Shit but if the game isnt fun. Most people have stopped playing me, because I've taken all their loot. Every once in a while, I'll get enough alcohol into William, and he'll play me again. Then I'll take him for all he's worth, and he'll vow to never play Dead-Eye again. Again.