The island of Alphar Isle was one of the few independent strongholds in the archipelago of the Pirate Isles on the Sea of Fallen Stars. Of course, the main commercial activity was selling pirate goods, but the civilian government held fast against the captains' pressures and threats. That uneasy relationship was buttressed by Alphar's position as neutral territory, and the island enjoyed a relative political calm. No one pirate lord or guild was eager to disrupt the established free zone that they could benefit from, themselves. Thus, it was a perfect place to hide out from one or all of the various factions that ruled most of these waters. And Curzio was hiding out.
Curzio Tarask
The young half-orc had had a short run of incredibly bad luck. Curzio's life had straddled the line between prestige and oppression. As the lesser son of the infamous pirate lord Kaz Tarask, he'd had one of the best hands-on educations in piracy, starting from near infancy, while simultaneously being near the bottom of the social structure in a mostly full-orc crew. Even his name was a sarcastic insult to his being born of a human princess Kaz had kidnapped. Because of his father, Curzio was never killed, but it didn't spare him from casual brutality. His ship and family, for what it was, were killed in an ambush by the Cursed Star and its crew of rabid occultists. Without the umbrella of relative safety of his father, Curzio was first adrift on the open sea, then among pirate culture as well. His father's enemies would relish a chance to gut the last drop of Kaz's blood still alive, and after a couple weeks of jumping among small boats and keeping a low profile, Curzio landed on Alphar and the mild safety of its neutrality.
With no useful job skills other than being a pirate, and the need to stay away from public places full of other pirates, Curzio retreated farther and farther away from the bustling city port. A bathhouse owner offered to share his bed for a night for modest compensation, and Curzio declined several times until he was too hungry to refuse. He had experience being the target of his father's crew when they'd gone too long in between ports with sturdy whores. Luckily, his new employer was more inclined to be abused. That lead to Curzio working and living at the bathouse, mostly serving as the greeter taking payments and security if necessary. The clientele was much more inclined to the feminine, waify boys that worked there, offering baths, massages, and any manner of delights their discreet pirate customers desired.
Curzio wasn't thrilled with his current situation, but he was fairly safe. Even if he was recognized, few wanted to explain that they saw him in an all-male bathhouse. He was also squirreling away his regular income as well as customer's tips to buy passage on a passenger vessel to somewhere far away. The pirate-turned-whore didn't yet know where he should go, but away was the goal. Perhaps back Cormyr where there were more of his father's connections that he could possibly sea-faring employment with. Still, that was far in the future, and he managed not to sigh too much as he went about his new duties.
This afternoon found Curzio at his usual post on a stool behind a short bar-like desk at the Treasure of the Deep, a bathouse far from the city's center at the end of a narrow alley. Before him was a lockbox with a slot on the top for coins, and his hands were occupied with whittling a piece of wood with a conspicuously large dagger. He wore snug leather pants and boots but no shirt, as the air inside the bathhouse was warm and humid as expected. The structure was wood and plaster, and the small sitting room at the entrance smelled of sandalwood. Besides Curzio's purch, there were two old but padded chairs, as if anyone would sit and chat with each other, a painting of a redheaded merman lounging on a rock with waves crashing against it, and a solid door leading to the establishment's amenities.
Curzio Tarask
Age: 19
Species: Half-Orc
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 200 pounds
Eye color: Light Gray
Hair color: Black
Build: Athletic
Curzio Tarask is a young, surprisingly handsome half-orc. He stands taller than average for a human, but much less bulky than a full-blooded orc. His athletic body is nicely sculpted from a career of physical effort, and his grayish-green skin is counter-shaded with a darker back and limbs. Curzio's hair is pulled back in thick black dreadlocks with a few beads and shark teeth woven in, and his eyes are an unnervingly light shade of gray. There's a fierceness to his resting expression, learned from a lifetime of being the target of pirate bullies. Scars and intimidating tattoos dot his skin because scars and tattoos just happen to pirates.
Species: Half-Orc
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 200 pounds
Eye color: Light Gray
Hair color: Black
Build: Athletic
Curzio Tarask is a young, surprisingly handsome half-orc. He stands taller than average for a human, but much less bulky than a full-blooded orc. His athletic body is nicely sculpted from a career of physical effort, and his grayish-green skin is counter-shaded with a darker back and limbs. Curzio's hair is pulled back in thick black dreadlocks with a few beads and shark teeth woven in, and his eyes are an unnervingly light shade of gray. There's a fierceness to his resting expression, learned from a lifetime of being the target of pirate bullies. Scars and intimidating tattoos dot his skin because scars and tattoos just happen to pirates.
The young half-orc had had a short run of incredibly bad luck. Curzio's life had straddled the line between prestige and oppression. As the lesser son of the infamous pirate lord Kaz Tarask, he'd had one of the best hands-on educations in piracy, starting from near infancy, while simultaneously being near the bottom of the social structure in a mostly full-orc crew. Even his name was a sarcastic insult to his being born of a human princess Kaz had kidnapped. Because of his father, Curzio was never killed, but it didn't spare him from casual brutality. His ship and family, for what it was, were killed in an ambush by the Cursed Star and its crew of rabid occultists. Without the umbrella of relative safety of his father, Curzio was first adrift on the open sea, then among pirate culture as well. His father's enemies would relish a chance to gut the last drop of Kaz's blood still alive, and after a couple weeks of jumping among small boats and keeping a low profile, Curzio landed on Alphar and the mild safety of its neutrality.
With no useful job skills other than being a pirate, and the need to stay away from public places full of other pirates, Curzio retreated farther and farther away from the bustling city port. A bathhouse owner offered to share his bed for a night for modest compensation, and Curzio declined several times until he was too hungry to refuse. He had experience being the target of his father's crew when they'd gone too long in between ports with sturdy whores. Luckily, his new employer was more inclined to be abused. That lead to Curzio working and living at the bathouse, mostly serving as the greeter taking payments and security if necessary. The clientele was much more inclined to the feminine, waify boys that worked there, offering baths, massages, and any manner of delights their discreet pirate customers desired.
Curzio wasn't thrilled with his current situation, but he was fairly safe. Even if he was recognized, few wanted to explain that they saw him in an all-male bathhouse. He was also squirreling away his regular income as well as customer's tips to buy passage on a passenger vessel to somewhere far away. The pirate-turned-whore didn't yet know where he should go, but away was the goal. Perhaps back Cormyr where there were more of his father's connections that he could possibly sea-faring employment with. Still, that was far in the future, and he managed not to sigh too much as he went about his new duties.
This afternoon found Curzio at his usual post on a stool behind a short bar-like desk at the Treasure of the Deep, a bathouse far from the city's center at the end of a narrow alley. Before him was a lockbox with a slot on the top for coins, and his hands were occupied with whittling a piece of wood with a conspicuously large dagger. He wore snug leather pants and boots but no shirt, as the air inside the bathhouse was warm and humid as expected. The structure was wood and plaster, and the small sitting room at the entrance smelled of sandalwood. Besides Curzio's purch, there were two old but padded chairs, as if anyone would sit and chat with each other, a painting of a redheaded merman lounging on a rock with waves crashing against it, and a solid door leading to the establishment's amenities.