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Castiel was born in the bowels of a ship; it seems that both the claustrophobic darkness and the salty musk of a trading vessel were both things the young Thrax learned to love as much as the mother who brought him into the world. He was a curious child given his kin, possessing both an affinity for books and longing for the furious crucible of war, yet while growing up he never cared to settle his differences - which he had more than his fair share of - in the more conventional manner of fisticuffs; there was always someone bigger, stronger and older willing to though, and that person could be enticed to do so on his behalf. When he became of age Castiel was restless; wanderlust had settled in him, and as soon as he could find a place on a ship he seized the opportunity and sailed with them. It was no heavily manned war galley, only a light merchant caravel and yet he loved the experience and spent the next three years working just about every rank on it until he took control altogether. A naturally patient man even at the time, he discovered he had an affinity for coin and learned how to make more very quickly; traders are shrewd people but he milked every advantage he had until just after his twentieth birthday he already controlled - in everything but name - a small but busy fleet of ships sailing the islands. Since negotiating the waters in the Saffron Chain means dealing with scum, Castiel first became acquainted with negotiating with pirates early on and then as he became more confident in the practice and his connections grew, he saw the benefits of working with them. A naturally untrustworthy and self-serving bunch, they could still be manipulated when it was to their best interest to do so, something which the young Thrax counted as an advantage; knowing what moves a person is leverage. He cultivated such ties very carefully and let them grow, expanding his interests past the islands along as whispers of an oncoming war reached him even in the eastern seas. After years of making a name for himself in the open waters and becoming a veteran captain in his mid-twenties, Castiel finally realized he could no longer neglect his obligations to House Thrax. He is fully aware he is *different* than many of his peers; a self-described progressive traditionalist, he is more concerned with *winning* than he is with just how such a feat can be achieved, and it's something which has caused friction at times during family gatherings. He hopes his return might herald a shift in tactics - achieving dominance built on the back of robust positions, careful planning and employing cunning as much as brute strength.

This man seems to be in his early twenties at most, long haired and bronze skinned. His eyes are a pale grey, inquisitive and often engaged in long stares at whatever occupies his attention, not quite frowning yet rarely openly emotional. His features are classically handsome, with a well shaped face with its fine bone structure and ears partially concealed under the strands of ebony hair that contrasts with his pale complexion. He stands at just over six feet of height all in all, carrying it with effortless and practiced ease. Right now he's wearing tight leather pants over a pair of heavy boots and a silken buttoned down shirt that barely allows a silver medallion to show at its top, and a steel ring around each of his little fingers.