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This page provides a simple browsing interface for finding entities described by a property and a named value. Other available search interfaces include the page property search, and the ask query builder.
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- Breidaia Ferchyn + (The Northlands are a harsh place for a com … The Northlands are a harsh place for a commoner. Breidaia knew the hardships of a hungry belly, an empty quiver, and lips turning blue. Her father died before she was five, memories of him gone dim with the years. The tiny village she dimly recalls was overrun by Abandoned or plague, alternating disasters that signalled a need to move on. So her mother did, uprooting them in a straggling band of starvelings harried by the closing season. The small family nearly perished before they reached Giant's Reach, or close enough to eke out some modest existence. They were never prosperous after any fashion. Some days it was merely enough to life. Hunger motivates as well as necessity. Breidaia had no future on the outskirts of Giant's Reach, being without desire to work in mines or muster some small craft. She had a far-roaming nature and a quest to see the sea. It took her nearly six years to make it to the shores of Sanctum on the Eventide Vast, working the river bit by bit, but she had enough competency on the ropes and the sails of inland waters by then to buy her way onto a ship. It was a terrible position and she thoroughly hated it. The next posting was better, less given to abuses. The crew tolerated her quirks more. She grew into her skin. The lure of the water wasn't really what it was about. The excitement, the colour, the wonder all found on a ship boiled down to the heady experience she loved. Sailing gave her choice. She went far west with a trading coster funded by the Redrains, and through the distant patronage of their economic interests, would criss-cross the ocean. She became the second mate on a respective ship, got a name for honest dealing and good leadership. None of that mattered for piss during a brutal storm somewhere northwest of the Saffron Isles, when they were cutting for the far storm-wracked coast of the Compact. Men died. Her lover, the captain, died with a spar to the chest that no one could heal. The first mate was riddled by rage and sickness, forcing Breidaia to take up the role. And she was good at it. Very good. By the time they made landfall, half their cargo lost, a third of the crew down, it looked like a disaster. She got a second chance, with a second ship, and that was that. She's been sailing for the Redrains ever since.been sailing for the Redrains ever since.)
