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Mayir Grayhope

Being a sailor's not too bad. It pays. And cargo falls off boats all the time.

Social Rank: 9
Concept: Apathetic Sailor
Fealty: Crownsworn
Family: Grayhope
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Religion: Pantheon
Vocation: Sailor
Height: 5' 9"
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Hazel
Skintone: Brown

Description: Mayir has black, wild hair, that he never seems to comb. It sticks out at all angles from his head, a tangle that defies both the barber's shears and the wind alike. Youthful, he has an easy smile, brown skin, and dark chocolate eyes that shine with mirth and keen perception. Mayir is also slender, and wiry, with quick, graceful movements of someone who is used to being underfoot and getting out of the way. Yet there is just a bit of muscle there too, of one who has had to lift and tote on the regular.

Personality: Some sailors are quick-to-it, jump-to-attention, no-rest-for-the-weary types. Mayir is not. He does his job, because one gets yelled at if one does not, and on the Thrax ships it can be even worse than yelling. If loafing opportunities present themselves, Mayir will loaf. If a pretty woman presents herself, Mayir may well give chase. And if there is a chance to drink and carouse, Mayir will probably be drinking and carousing. After all, it's how one gets by day-to-day in the Boroughs.

Background: When you grow up in the Lower Boroughs, there isn't really much to one's childhood. Mayir's father was a sailor that chose the sea over home, his mother a tavern wench that barely kept food on the table. Mayir went to the lessons taught by the Scholars of Vellichor and learned his letters and his figures, though he had no real skill at it. Instead, he preferred to run and roughhouse and snatch and run some more.

As Mayir came to age, sailing was the only career he much knew about, and so he set about becoming a sailor. But Mayir's heart was not in it. The work was long and hard and backbreaking, and the sea had no romance to it. It paid coin. But Mayir came to realize something important about the merchant trade: Shrinkage. No consignor expects every bolt of silk or jug of whiskey to arrive at the destination. So sometimes things fall off ships. And sometimes those things end up fenced to suitable sources. And sometimes a sailing goes better for Mayir than he expects.

Along the way, Mayir found himself working the same crews of one Magpie Grayhope. Sail long enough and it happens. And as their relationship grew and Mayir's unique skills became helpful, Mayir now finds himself as part of the family, one among those adopted into the house.

Name Summary