RavenStorm
Ruthlessness is a mercy apon one self.
- Joined
- May 27, 2013
Ooh another bite. I do have a character thread I can put here
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⚓️ The Lucky Bastard and The High Seas ⚓️ A seafaring adventure 🌊 🦭 ⛵️💀
- Thread starter MajickIsWes
- Start date
RavenStorm
Ruthlessness is a mercy apon one self.
- Joined
- May 27, 2013
Lucky Bastard Group rp characters
Figured before it's gets too big I should make a place for everyone to post their bios in one place for anyone to look at Thread: The Lucky Bastard Name: Brendan Finnely Alias: Raven Storm, Lucky Age: 21 Quirk: spontaneous luck Look: messy short red hair with blue green eyes, a trimmed beard...
bluemoonroleplaying.com
RavenStorm
Ruthlessness is a mercy apon one self.
- Joined
- May 27, 2013
Lucky Bastard OOC
@Hinterland , @Silvered Sutures , @Cat , @MajickIsWes ) Made a thread for us all too coordinate since the groupe growing. Also since it's been awhile since Wes has been one so Ive been pondering if we should continue with Hinter and silvered so they can build there characters a bit and...
bluemoonroleplaying.com
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2025
Character sheet! >:3
Name:
Isabel de la Cruz (previously Isabel Zamudio)
Skills:
Surgeon and Healer
Personality:
A dispenser of tough love.
"If it please you, señor, I can leave the musket ball inside—and you will be dead from fever before next domingo. Now, drink your rum, bite the stick…and stop with the squirming."
Will teach anyone her art if they show even the slightest interest.
“Remember. You stitch when the wound is fresh and clean, then dress with knitbone and honey. If it smells like death or bleeds like wine? Needle and catgut only seals the rot in. El fuego is their only salvation.”
Backstory:
Isabel Zamudio never knew her parents, yellow fever and dysentery behind the cramped walls of Cartagena took them before she could speak. Growing up, Mama Yayi—the Curandero who took in the orphaned girl—taught her much about healing with poultice and powder.
The broiling, stinking gem of Spanish power in the Caribbean was Isabel’s home. Though they did not have much in the way of riches, Isabel ran free. A chirpy errand girl for Mama Yayi, her at times soot-caked face was a familiar sight among the poor and enslaved. Once, a passing merchant had dragged her into a secluded corner. Her cries drew the local men, who were only too happy to divest the offender of his coin, clothes, and life. His pale corpse joined the sewage seeping from the city, and a comforted Isabel was returned to the healer woman.
Isabel’s next lesson in the vicissitudes of colonial life came when Francis Drake—El Draque—sacked Cartagena. The surgeons in port had turned a warehouse on the docks into a makeshift hospital. By treating anyone, Spaniad, African, or English—they created one of the few neutral spaces during the six week ordeal. Mama Yayi and Isabel sheltered there, plying their trade amongst the smell of blood and sounds of agony. Isabel learned much from the surgeons, they were taking all the help they could get, and she was a quick study. Still, it was not enough. Too many broken bodies flowed through the warehouse doors, and there were not enough skilled hands to fix them. She was soon pressed into working alongside the flesh smiths, sawing ruined limbs off children while their parents bled to death.
Yet, even the sack of her home was not enough to make her leave it. The years of hunger and deprivation that followed were borne with a smile while Cartagena rebuilt. But then, everything changed in an instant. Nobody expected the Spanish Inquisition. Even as the English were winning complete control of the oceans, Spain remained obssessed with Catholic purity. They came for Mama Yayi, pulling her into the night, and charged her for witchcraft. Isabel hid, sobbing under her bed. Nowhere was safe. Changing her last name to de la Cruz, Isabel’s reputation in the city as a competent surgeon allowed her to book passage on the next ship to a non-Spanish port.
Isabel de la Cruz (previously Isabel Zamudio)
Skills:
Surgeon and Healer
Personality:
A dispenser of tough love.
"If it please you, señor, I can leave the musket ball inside—and you will be dead from fever before next domingo. Now, drink your rum, bite the stick…and stop with the squirming."
Will teach anyone her art if they show even the slightest interest.
“Remember. You stitch when the wound is fresh and clean, then dress with knitbone and honey. If it smells like death or bleeds like wine? Needle and catgut only seals the rot in. El fuego is their only salvation.”
Backstory:
Isabel Zamudio never knew her parents, yellow fever and dysentery behind the cramped walls of Cartagena took them before she could speak. Growing up, Mama Yayi—the Curandero who took in the orphaned girl—taught her much about healing with poultice and powder.
The broiling, stinking gem of Spanish power in the Caribbean was Isabel’s home. Though they did not have much in the way of riches, Isabel ran free. A chirpy errand girl for Mama Yayi, her at times soot-caked face was a familiar sight among the poor and enslaved. Once, a passing merchant had dragged her into a secluded corner. Her cries drew the local men, who were only too happy to divest the offender of his coin, clothes, and life. His pale corpse joined the sewage seeping from the city, and a comforted Isabel was returned to the healer woman.
Isabel’s next lesson in the vicissitudes of colonial life came when Francis Drake—El Draque—sacked Cartagena. The surgeons in port had turned a warehouse on the docks into a makeshift hospital. By treating anyone, Spaniad, African, or English—they created one of the few neutral spaces during the six week ordeal. Mama Yayi and Isabel sheltered there, plying their trade amongst the smell of blood and sounds of agony. Isabel learned much from the surgeons, they were taking all the help they could get, and she was a quick study. Still, it was not enough. Too many broken bodies flowed through the warehouse doors, and there were not enough skilled hands to fix them. She was soon pressed into working alongside the flesh smiths, sawing ruined limbs off children while their parents bled to death.
Yet, even the sack of her home was not enough to make her leave it. The years of hunger and deprivation that followed were borne with a smile while Cartagena rebuilt. But then, everything changed in an instant. Nobody expected the Spanish Inquisition. Even as the English were winning complete control of the oceans, Spain remained obssessed with Catholic purity. They came for Mama Yayi, pulling her into the night, and charged her for witchcraft. Isabel hid, sobbing under her bed. Nowhere was safe. Changing her last name to de la Cruz, Isabel’s reputation in the city as a competent surgeon allowed her to book passage on the next ship to a non-Spanish port.
She's gonna get blood all down her front, but she's so hot though 
!
!
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