Arlo

Arlo Bancroft
Captain of the Ever-Sea
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The Bancroft Family
The Bancroft family is illustrious and well-known in the country of Vixava. Willing to stick their hands into everything, it’s hard to find a single thing a member of this family hasn't touched. From businesses to politics to even housing, the Bancroft name can be found everywhere in this small country. Their reputation is no overstatement of their cunning or business acumen. It’s said that at one point a single member of the family was able to cripple the entire economy with just a few scattered words.

The key word there is, “at one point”. After a series of unheard of financial troubles and subsequent infighting the family has fallen far from their former glory. Their once bustling manor now sits empty, with only the eldest members of the family still residing in it, desperate to cling to their last scraps of nobility. Arlo is the illegitimate child of one of said elders. Normally such a thing would be brushed under the rug to never be spoken of again, but Arlo’s father desperately wanted a child and searched for the woman from the tavern relentlessly.


Upbringing
Born to a young dock worker, Arlo did not have a fabulous life filled with niceties. Instead he and his mother worked for every scrap of food they got, barely scraping by. He never cared to learn about his father. Despite his mother speaking kindly of the man whenever the topic came up, Arlo decided that he couldn’t be too nice since he left them to rot.

Arlo was brought to the manor at the age of 13. His mother was, of course, not invited. His fathers wife refused to allow her and only allowed Arlo through much begging. During his time away, Arlo wrote his mother weekly, telling her of the things he learned, how much he missed her, and always asking to come home. Arlo never would have gone, given the choice, but his mother told him he must, saying it would be a step up for him in the world. She was completely mistaken. Despite being the only heir to the once grand family, Arlo was denied his right to the family fortune (if it could even be called that anymore) and was kicked out the day his father passed.


The Army
Despite having hated it, Arlo did learn some important skills while at the manor: reading, writing, math, and so forth. The most valuable of those skills was sword fighting. Nothing more than a formality, but when he decided to join the army it quickly accelerated his rank, as did his name. The Bancroft family may have fallen into irrelevance, but the tales of their former glory still lived on. With proof of his identity reluctantly given from his father’s wife, he could easily pass as a full-blooded noble.

Arlo never enjoyed the army. He had joined for the reliable source of pay but once he proved his skill in swordsmanship and his heritage, he was grouped in with the other noble brats who had been sent to reform their attitude. Arlo often found his superiors to be going easy on them and tried to distance himself as much as possible. Years passed like this, Arlo working his hardest while his peers relaxed. In hindsight, it possibly made his skills shine all the brighter.

While he may not have enjoyed his training, he didn’t have an active hatred for the army until the day he was sent on his first mission. The goal was to find counterfeit coin manufacturers, but he quickly learned the corruption inherent here. After witnessing a particularly gruesome incident, he quit on the spot. Not a week later he received an angry letter from his father’s wife telling him off for “ruining the Bancroft name”.


Piracy
Having worked at the docks in his youth, he had grown up hearing stories of pirates swindling their way through the sea. His experience with ships on the docks and in the army gave him enough confidence to decide to set off on his own. After some months of searching, he found a crew who would take him. Ever since he has lived his life as an outlaw.

Though he may be breaking laws, Arlo still held his strong moral code and ended up switching between crews rather often once they proved to be against said morals. Eventually, he decided to start his own crew. When his current captain learned about this, he left Arlo on a small island to waste away. Being unexpectedly rescued by a ghost ship, he was quick to make a pact with the owner before claiming it as his own.

Arlo now runs a crew of about fifty, raiding pirate and army ships alike.


Saphen
Arlo didn’t expect to fall for the ghost possessing his ship that almost killed him when they met, but does anyone? It was a slow thing, their love. For all his bluster and commanding personality, Arlo is very shy when it comes to romance. He tried to start small: compliments about the ships handling or Saphen’s appearance that day. But the ghost was either dense or ignoring him. Arlo desperately hoped it was the first.

Next he started to send crew members on not-so-secret missions. Whenever they landed at a port or stopped by an island, the crew would distract Saphen while Arlo went to seek out flowers. They were hard to come by but seeing Saphen get a honest to gods blush was well worth it.

From there, Arlo began to move onto more forward flirting. A kiss on the hand, a brush of shoulders, a wink, even. Standard, by all means, but again, Arlo is horribly shy when it comes to romance.

Eventually Arlo mustered up the courage to ask Saphen on a date. It was difficult, but they made it work. The pair ended up having a long conversation about insecurities and other potential problems before deciding that they would work together to overcome these obstacles. Almost a decade later and the pair are still happily together, even getting married just a few years back.
—–



Short Story: Meeting the Ghost Ship
Arlo pulled himself over the rotting railing, his feet landing with a wet thud on the deck. Water slowly poured off of his clothing and fur. He glanced around. Just as he saw from the shore: no one aboard. Could this be a ghost ship? They weren’t uncommon— ships whose crew abandoned them for one reason or another, left to float the seas aimlessly until finally crashing ashore or, if it was lucky, being found. Hopefully whatever wiped out the crew here wasn’t some disease. Or a curse. Those could linger for decades.

Pulling off his boots and dumping them onto the deck, Arlo continued his assessment. The ship was old, he could tell that much. Much of the wood was in some state of decay and barnacles had covered the sides many times over. A boon for now, since it allowed him easy footholds to climb aboard. The sails were thoroughly torn, but in surprisingly good shape for how old the wood appeared. Leaving his boots to dry, Arlo climbed the stairs to the wheel. It was missing some spokes but when he clasped it and gave it a tentative turn, the ship groaned and lurched to the side. A smile spread across his snout. A working ship drifting close to shore just when he was about to run out of food? The gods must be smiling on him.

He quickly checked the anchor was up before steering the ship back into open waters. It was daylight, so he couldn’t navigate without tools, but he had seen ships headed to the west. There must be some port or island there where he could set anchor and find some food. Gripping the wheel tight and staring into the horizon, Arlo almost didn’t notice that the ship wasn’t following his steering any longer. Almost.

“Ah frog warts,” he grumbled, letting go of the wheel. Did a rope snap while he was checking the anchor? That would be highly unlikely (and go against his streak of luck), but he couldn’t think of any better explanation. Stepping back onto the main deck, he pulled up one of the hatches to go below. Normally they were heavy and took quite some strength to lift, but this one seemed to almost open for him. The ladder below led into inky blackness that not even the sunlight could pierce.

Arlo paid it no mind as he climbed down, simply waiting at the bottom for his eyes to adjust. But they didn’t. As he took a tentative step forward, the darkness blinked away, replaced instead by glowing candles. They were neon green, a sure sign of some form of magic. Arlo was never gifted in the arts, but he had heard of spells similar to this— only lighting when someone approached. How kind of the previous owner to install that. Odd that they hadn’t done that when he first came down.

He tried to put it out of his mind. It was probably delirium— after all he’d been on that island for weeks. Heading deeper into the ship, he quickly located the rigging. Or at least, where it should be. The ropes that tied the wheel to the rudder were degraded and rotting. It’s a wonder they hadn’t snapped. Arlo gently reached to touch one. Sticky. Whatever was growing on the cord must have gunked up the mechanism, he reasoned. Groaning, he rubbed his hands over his face, leaving a few green lines. This would take hours to clean up at best. At worst the ropes would snap as soon as he tried. Maybe there was some stored rope around here? Gods know if it would even be in working order but he had to hope.

Arlo was turning to search the ship when he was shoved to the ground, arm wrenched behind his back. A sharp, crackled voice snarled into his ear, “Think you can just take my ship, ay?” Arlo’s blood froze. Stealing a ship was a crime he had committed many times in the past and, overall, not the worst sin in the books. However, when he stole ships before he had others to back him up. Others with swords. Here he was alone, weaponless, and weak from his stint on the island. He was going to die, Arlo was sure of it.

“Well explain yourself, mate,” the voice demanded, twisting Arlo’s arm until he let out a yelp of pain.

Taking a steadying breath, Arlo prepared for the worst. “M’name’s Arlo. I saw this ship and thought it was abandoned. ‘Was stranded on that island and decided to help m’self.”

There was a long pause before a loud snort ruffled his mane. “Makes sense why yer all wet. You really think y’ could’ve run this ship all by y’self?”

“Didn’t have many options.” Arlo twisted, trying to relieve the pressure on his arm, but the weight on his back was steady and strong.

“‘Suppose not. So tell me, why shouldn’t I just kill you?” Arlo could practically hear the smile in his voice. Was this some sort of game to them? “Come on, I love hearing ‘em beg.”

Well, that wasn’t a great sign.

Arlo took a breath and tried to keep his voice steady. “I have experience on ships. I could help run it. Even make repairs, if you’ve got the stuff for it.”

There was silence for a long minute, before the person slowly got off his back. As soon as the weight was gone, Arlo scurried away, turning to see who his captor was.

Before him was a scraggly man. His limbs were thin and weak-looking, old scars running across them, dangling out of once-bright clothing. The tips of his hands held razor-like claws that Arlo was certain had taken a life before. Long fangs grew from a snarling mouth, set just below two pairs of eyes that leaked green mist. Framing his face was swirling wave tattoos that expended down his body, even into his feet, which were hovering half a foot off the ground. His figure glowed with an eerie green light, the same light of the candles in the hall.

“Y’ know how to repair ships?” The man growled. Under all the snarling, his voice sounded almost hopeful.

“I— I can fix it enough. Get it to, to a port at least,” Arlo stuttered out. His mind was swimming. An actual ghost ship? It was something out of the story. Hell, he hadn’t even thought ghosts existed until just now. Why he believed this in a world full of magic and made by living gods, he couldn’t tell you.

The man grumbled, dropping lower to loom over Arlo. “You fix my ship and I’ll spare your life. Deal?”

Arlo had never agreed to something so quickly.

“Deal.”