Within this realm, the one of the cruel king- there had lived a boy- Tristan Salvador. He had grown up in a loving, four person family. He and his family had lived in the countryside, in a village that was surprisingly well off, despite the surrounding famine, droughts and unpleasantries that the rest of the kingdom was suffering. He couldn’t quite remember what it had been like, but all he did know was that where the outside world was suffering diseases and death, he was well fed, healthy- and cared for.
Their town had been a trading post, and it was as lively as ever. Fresh produce, medicine, perishables, non-perishables- and even clothing were always for for sale, there had never been a day where the people had gone without anything. Perhaps it was because of the god they worshipped, protecting them from the foul outside-or they were extremely lucky. But of course, all good things must come to and end.
Somehow, some people who had specifically been allies of the king- had caught wind of what this village was up to, and how they were thriving. And of course, that wouldn’t do. To them, a thriving village in the midst of their king’s realm meant a threat. Sure, they’d eventually send word to the king about what they discovered, but in the meantime they figured they snuff out what little hope this corner of the kingdom brought. How dare they have fertile soil when the king couldn’t even have his own. These allies saw this as an act of defiance and started questioning, well- questioning with their blades.
Tristan remembered the smell of his burning village- feeling the smoke in his lungs and eyes, causing him to cough and gasp for air, struggling to stay awake. He remembered the echoing sounds of the screaming, pleading villagers he had once called his friends- and the crying noises from his mother and sister.
His father had perished from a wooden, burning beam crushing his body, and no matter how hard Tristan had tried, he could not lift the beam at all. And with that, despite the house still burning, the rest of them huddled there, trying to avoid the horrors of the outside, where bloodthirsty men awaited them.
Tristan was ready to die alongside his family by this point, but he never got that chance. As they soon were founded out, and dragged outside to face their fate. Tristan was sure they would be killed, but it seemed that his mother and sister would make good money for them, If they sold them to the right person, they kept saying to themselves. And when they looked to him Tristan felt a shiver of unease. He knew he couldn’t fight back, no matter how much he wanted to.
So now he was their personal servant, and as he had been practically dragged away from his mother and sister- screaming, crying out and struggling with the last of his strength, it was no use.
Those nights that he had spent growing up after the incident were cruel, and unforgiving. No longer did he have his family which cared for him, loved him- now he had been a plaything for his captors, being their toy in such cruel, twisted ways. His nights where he slept alone had his sleep disturbed by nightmares and he didn't know peace for a long while. His room was freezing most nights and he wasn't allowed any warmth of the sorts. And as he spent his days scratching at the walls, he vowed to get out of this situation, one way or another.
So he had made a crude, makeshift knife, and the next time his 'cell' was unlocked, he murdered the guard, and made a bolt for it. He didn't realize how many times he had stabbed that man, and didn't notice anyone else either. All he remembered was the warm, thick feeling of blood spraying over his face and destitute clothing. Tristan had bolted from that place, and when he finally came out of it all mentally- he had become suddenly aware that he was now on a ship- with other men.
It had taken some time, but he had finally come out of his dissociation. He had asked one of his crewmates how long he had been there and with a puzzled look, raised his eyebrow.
"Are you okay Captain?" Was the question he had heard. And seemingly that.. was now seven years ago.
Tristan played it off of course, and had been in one of his 'Captain hasn't been acting right' moods for seven years, but apparently his crew had been too afraid of him to speak up or even challenge him. All they knew was that he was a fierce fighter- one who easily got the job done, and had a bag of blood money for the reward. That and the fact that he was supposedly known as the 'Ghost of the Sea' because you never saw him coming until his blade was thrust through your chest.
And that brings us to the current situation at hand- he had saw Aaron afloat there and suddenly some overwhelming urge to have his crew swing the ship around to rescue this man. Had this man been in the same situation as him?
He hoisted the young man up easily, and tossed him on his deck, seeing that he had been nearly drowned- the man soon had passed out. Tristan then went over and examined him, before calling to his first mate. “Take him to a hammock to dry out,” he instructed, and watched as his first mate easily picked up Aaron and took him below deck.
Tristan Salvador
- Age: 25 (but looks older due to sun damage)
- Weight: 160 lbs / 72kg
- Height: 5’8 / 172 cm
- Gender: Male (he/him)
- Race: human
- Appearance:
- Family: he had both a father, a mother, and a younger sister. His father died when he was younger, and his sister and mother had been traded off once him and them had fallen into captivity.
- Background: he had a simple life, but it was ruined by allies of the cruel king who ruled the land, and they plundered his town, burned it down and ended up killing his father because of it. Soon being taken into captivity, his sister and mother had been sold off elsewhere while he remained captive to those who took him from his village. He had then escaped by sheer luck, going into a dissociative state for seven years, only to wake to find himself captain of a ship.
- Likes/Dislikes:
- Likes: likes the open air of the sea, a warm sunny day with a cool enough breeze and of course the ship he commands
- Dislikes: heavily dislikes women, only because it had been women who had abused him when he was younger- they had been his captors.
- Kinks: being loved and appreciated, taken care of
